


Thou Swell

by FionasEmbrace



Series: Vekta has let you down [2]
Category: Killzone
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FionasEmbrace/pseuds/FionasEmbrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Facing unthinkable odds, Kellan crosses the Wall once more, forcibly bringing him face-to-face with a former enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

To try an escape out of Vektan territory like this- it could be fatal. This stretch of the wall was as heavily fortified as the warzone near the capital. His dealings with the Vektan state police were going to leave him cornered. In a more ideal world, he could have left the city through some less dangerous channel. The wall was far-reaching along the whole planet, but was not built equally throughout. It was a simple, easily scalable fence in some places, and non-existent over some bodies of water. Yes, in a more ideal world, none of this would have happened. As for right now, there was just fear and adrenaline and no time to deliberate on any of this. A sharp transition from decorated army operative, to a fugitive with no loved ones, no identity, and nowhere to go. 

It was only moments since the gunshot and the police hadn't yet clued into what happened. He enabled a cloaking mechanism and slipped away, in the extremities of the busy shopping center. Away through the emergency stairs, through the maintenance tunnel. Outside he heard the screams. There were cries for help, shouts of confusion, and talk that a dead body had been found. People asking one another what happened and no one had an answer. Talk of suicide, since the bullets were from Sinclair's own gun. Others said they should find the murderer is case it was a set-up. Kellan had some blood on his person. No matter how it unfolded, he couldn't face them. It was no use. All he could do was get away. Hurrying along, it was a careful balance between gaining ground and creating noise that invited detection. 

The moment he shot Sinclair, everything happened too quickly for Kellan to fully appreciate the consequences. He was angry at himself for what he had done, and would carry the guilt forever. Besides that, Sinclair was his only family, and the only person on whom he could ever rely. The rest of his family were lost during the forced relocation twenty years ago. Now that he was to be a fugitive, no one would help him. Even in an otherwise open, democratic state like Vekta, people were reluctant to help fugitives. They feared being implicated themselves with anti-government conspiracy. It was all too common to hear stories about these types going to jail. He was all for himself. 

His options: die here, die in jail, or escape. 

The ventilation ducts were perilous and vast. Fortunately for Kellan, he was very familiar with them. He knew which way ejected out to the cliffs, and which exit checkpoints were heavy guarded and which ones were not. In particular, some of them used out-of-date technology. These couldn't detect cloaking. Even as he made it out of the center grounds, the battery on his gear had a half charge, and that ought to be enough. Some time in the past, the Vektans toyed with the idea of a remote deactivation feature, for cases exactly like this- to disarm defectors. They scrapped the idea because a false positive, a likely outcome of a malfunction, would render a person's equipment useless and likely get him or her killed. The risk wasn't worth the potential benefit. And so, Kellan trusted everything he had on him, to be at least enough to get him beyond the airship landing point, and that would go straight out to the wall. In time, he made it out to the cliffs, far beyond the military base and the reach of the Vektan patrol. 

He found himself at one of the mouths of the wall. Indeed he had already crossed over it, twice, but never like this- a fair target for either side. The de-militarized zone stopped sharply at one of the fences of in the distance. It was open season for anyone travelling on foot after that. In the wasteland here, there was no shortage of remnants of the ongoing conflict, a mix of live munitions and wasted automata. The iron structures high and low, makeshift, bullet-ridden things, surrounded a large valley split up into trenches. He kept to the side, covering behind the downed vehicles. 

And, the rain started.

Gunfire still openly passed through either side. A bullet nearly grazed his leg. He had to push forward. In his head he went over and over what the risks would be of going onward from here. He knew what the Helghast security were capable of- what people like Saric were capable of. Those encounters, when he allowed himself to be captured, changed him forever. Specifically, they changed his perception of the Helghast. Whenever he saw that red triad, or the red glowing dots from those visors, there was power. In his weary state, he could see it everywhere.

He moved forward, almost automatically. There was something hypnotizing about the world passing around him like this. The wasteland stretched on forever. Mechanical sounds, and noise of continued missile detonation echoed through the night air. Admittedly, this whole journey was one huge risk. There was no predicting what would happen once he got to the other side. He just had to keep moving. In the distance, he could see the Helghast fortification gate now. From here, could side-step the gate and find a way out of the militarized area.

Those red glowing eyes. The image was somehow etched in the back of his memory. It was always the same. He was escaping back to them. But, no- it wasn't a hallucination. He was seeing that red glow in real life, right now.

Kellan squinted. The sky was murky through the thick rain and night, illuminated only by faint city lights of the Helghast settlement in the distance. In this distance, he saw the red glow. While the fidelity of what he could see was muted through sickness and fatigue, he could see it. The little shards of light flared out the sides as it came in and out of focus. He could do nought but clamor towards it single-mindedly. This, it was the light that would save him. The red, glowing insignia sign. Closer, he could make sense of what it was. The red and white Triad.

It was some Helghast border patrol office, adorned with a large red Triad insignia like they all were. To the sides were smaller such emblems. Kellan tried the door, nearly collapsing onto it. It was a keycarded entrance and would not open. The cameras perked right up when they detected his presence. His cloak was off. It had long since depleted anyway. 

He turned around, with a brand new found sense of hopelessness. He leaned backward, back to the door, sliding down. Thunder and lightning. Rainwater washed down the blood. The rain came down harder than ever before. 

Rain and footsteps.

The security device had alerted the guards. There were only a few keeping watch, the few who were unfortunate enough to have the night shift. He caught sight of the visored, armored guards. One of them barked, "Do not move. Put your hands up. Discard all weapons. State your business."

He couldn't do anything but comply. "Name- Lucas Kellan. Former VSA Shadow Marshal operative. Seeking refuge in New Helghan, Business- inquiring to defect, permanently." The one guard looked, a bit puzzled, at the other. Putting it together, that was quite a story. They exchanged a long, wordless glance, while Kellan supposed they were actually communicating using their optical overlays. He wondered if they indeed knew anything about him, or if they could somehow even look up his personal file that way. No, that had to be impossible.

"Come this way." The other guard seized him roughly by the arm, and half-dragged him along. He badged into the door and entered a passcode. "Have a seat." Finally, he was out of the rain. Kellan sneezed, and deposited himself wearily on the chair opposite the guard's desk.

The questions started, one after another. When did he leave Vekta? Why? How did he cross over? Who intercepted him? There were all manner of inquiries about his life in the military, his relationship to Thomas Sinclair, his weapons expertise, his personal life, and everything in between. In time, the New Helghan local police arrived and they had their own gauntlet of questions. He simply answered all of them to the best of his ability. But there was no denying- it wasn't like before. This time, fortunately for him, he was not being interrogated as a prisoner. There was no cruelty, now. He made his intentions clear: to co-operate. To defect. He would give them anything and everything they wanted. He literally had nothing left to lose. And he was not about to throw himself into the fire for Vekta a second time. 

They asked him, again, what his intentions were. He replied it was to serve them. They asked what his outstanding ties to the VSA were. He replied, honestly, there were none. This went on and on. Hours passed, and they put him to a holding cell while they could evaluate his file and defer to the chain of superiors. Kellan guessed it would be a tall order getting anything like this done at this hour of the night, and he would probably be here for a while. He sat back on the bench in the cell, resting his eyes, but the stress left him unable to sleep.

One of the terms of his enlistment with the Helghast was that he would surrender all his past expertise. This included information that the VSA shared with him in confidence. Knowledge about Vladko Tyran, to name an important topic that came up, was no exception. He transcribed everything he could remember, and diligently answered all of their questions. But with respect to Tyran, there appeared to be little that he knew, that the Helghast didn't. The really valuable thing - Kellan's VSA intranet credentials, and all his other computer information privileges- were immediately revoked by the VSA once they got word of his escape. This was a standard, well-known security measure that the Helghast practiced as well. And so, this limited his value to them, but also absolved him of a bigger information-leaking dilemma. The same one he faced before. 

Here in the detainment cell, it was a dangerous time to be alone with his thoughts like this. All he could do was mourn for his loss of Sinclair, and stew in his regrets. It was so difficult to just move forward. 

Of course, this was much different from his last adventure being captured by them. He wondered how many others saw that side of the Helghast. It was an image he could still so vividly recall, even now- one of him, in Cell 17, being interrogated by the Helghast. He was given a choice: either give up the information, or suffer at their hands. Because his life was not at stake, the choice was real. He remembered, too, the different officers that had a go at him. They told him they had hostages. They tried to buy him off. They threatened to cut off limbs, gouge his eyes. The most decisive, however, was by High Commander Saric. 

Finally, he heard footsteps once again. The same guards as before opened the cell door. "Kellan? Come along this way." They didn't grab him this time, but had him back at the same chair as before. Still exhausted, he followed their directions and sat down.

"It appears you've caught the attention of a lot of people in the enforcement." Kellan blinked, not knowing how to respond. He didn't know if he was being incriminated yet, and didn't want to dig himself into some kind of hole with the Helghast. "And now you're getting into bed with the enemy."

"I hope to have made my intentions clear enough."

The guard chuckled, sounding a bit odd through the voice filter. "That's for sure." He reached down, and clicked through some more forms in the tablet computer. The other guard handed him a different one, and he did a similar thing, checking off boxes and scribbling things in, entering in the necessary clearances. Kellan wanted to see what was going on, but the text was too small and far away, and the content was dominated by Helghan script. "Lucas Kellan, it appears you've got the attention of our superiors, as well." The silence, and pressure of not knowing. It was killing him. Was he going to be tried, now, or just sent to jail? He was waiting for a decision of some kind. "When are you willing to sign yourself over? Now?"

Kellan simply stared. They were really letting him in. Unbelievable.

"Mr. Kellan?"

"-Yes, right now." 

"Are you willing to take all the necessary oaths? You must relinquish all ties to the Vektan side. As you know, this includes citizenship, bank accounts, employment status, any and all income, most communication, and travel privileges unless authorized. Do you need more time? More information?"

"I've considered everything."

"You know that all of the citizenship benefits are conditional, under probational employment by New Helghan military enforcement?" None of what they were asking for was a hardship, because he had long come to terms with the fact that he could never return to Vekta.

"Yes." 

"Then, here's this." He handed Kellan a piece of laminated paper with some words in both Helghan and common script for accessibility. 

"This is the Call. Recite it." The list of responses was simple enough. Thinking back, his military commencement with the VSA were a very similar affair, and with the same practical implications. Although, there was so much pageantry and ceremony involved in all of it. There always is, for graduating soldiers, and in fact, graduating Helghast soldiers had a similar thing. At those types of affairs, usually friends and family would come to witness everything and it was a big cause for celebration. In his case, he made Sinclair very proud. Here, it was understood on all sides that he had been through this sort of thing before. He was older than new graduates, and jaded enough that it didn't mean anything to him. It was understood that there was no turning back. 

"I hereby pledge myself, in loyalty to the Triad and the principles for which it stands.  
To this end, I am called to make sacrifices,  
To fight, to be diligent and steadfast,  
To love and serve others,  
To advocate for an independent Helghast nation, and  
To uphold the supreme authority of Chancellor Visari  
in solidarity with the inhabitants of our nation.  
I will perform each of these in strength or weakness, fortune or loss, honor or disgrace.  
In duty, obedience and loyalty I will protect Helghast independence and fulfill my part in campaigning for its prosperity and sovereignty."

While this part of the process was unavoidable, that wasn't to say it was an empty gesture. The hardships leading up to his arrival here didn't make him cynical. He meant every word. The presider glanced at one of the armored, masked military escorts. He didn't let it show much, but he was pleasantly surprised with the Kellan's enthusiasm. There was something of an innocence about these kinds of promises even if they were strictly ceremonial. It was a rare thing to see in depressed times like these. He looked back down at the notes. "Do you swear to uphold the principles of the Triad?

Now he was practically re-marrying himself to his new job. And even now, he didn't know if Saric's custody would affect things here, or if the attendants here even had access to that information. A part of him wondered about that. He supposed they did.

"I so swear."

"Do you promise your loyalty to no other nation hereafter?" 

"I promise."

"Will you exemplify the standards of courage, fealty and integrity that are expected your new role?

"Yes."

"By the supreme command of Chancellor Visari, from this day forward, you are an operative of the Helghast sovereign state authority. You will wear our colors, our insignia, represent our values and help to promote our interests." Inwardly, Kellan couldn't help but think of 'promote our interests' as a euphemism for 'throw himself in front of bullet-fire'. That was alright by him.

The world was still spinning. He felt at ease, somehow.

They gave him his badges, some small computing devices, and a heavy collection of literature. There was a signed letter of pardon for his wartime crimes against the state. A signed letter of authorization for enlistment in their forces, with some signatures and names he couldn't recognize. Then a weighty army recruit training manual that he supposed nobody actually read, because it was far too long. Separate instructional manuals for firearms, their methods of operation and history- one for each of Stahl Arms and Visari Corp. A pamphlet on the local area. Some language guides for understanding Helghan script. He wondered why they couldn't just give him digital copies. He supposed, on the plus side, these wouldn't run out of batteries.

For all this craziness and confusion, he got exactly what he wanted. All of his old life was left behind, the VSA were hundreds of miles away, and he had a clean slate- mostly. The Helghast accepted him, in spite of everything that happened, and the risks. In the longer term, he wanted to understand all of this. He wanted to find out what his new post was going to be. For the time being he just wanted to go somewhere and sleep. It was a deciding end to such an intense gauntlet of unfortunate events. How nice it would be, to just accept all of this, at face value.

* * *

The war strategization meeting was a heated one. A dozen very obviously decorated Helghast officers, mostly unmasked for now, gathered around the large boardroom. Here was one of many, decorated with framed portraits of Helghast war heroes. They deliberated on their next plan of action for subduing with the Blank Hand, and overcoming the impending VSA aggression. It culminated with two officers storming out and one threatening to quit. While Visari herself could not be present for the meeting, her deputy tried in vain to keep the peace. Then there was High Commander Saric. There were several ideas passed around, about whether to attack the VSA now or wait until the Black Hand was suppressed and the Containment areas were stable. 

One vehement character in the "attack-now" camp was Drago. Drago was a cold, battle-hardened man a few ranks under Saric's direct chain of command. The dredges of Containment City shaped him into a warlike, patriotism-minded soldier despite having never lived on Helghan. For years he served as Lieutenant and was delegated to the unglamorous task of interrogating suspects of war crimes. He excelled at this despite the ugliness of it. After having climbed through the ranks, he maintained solid control of District 47, and sought for more even still. Everything stayed at a standstill ever since Massar's project was underway and New Helghan's government started to change.

After the meeting had cleared out, Saric and Drago stayed behind.

Three times being passed up for promotion made him more than a little sore. When he got word of Kellan being hired to the force, he was livid. Not that he was competing for Kellan's job- Kellan's position was contrived for him, and didn't exist beforehand- he was angry that someone like that could get such special treatment. Someone of Vektan blood, strong VSA loyalties, and no prior record with the Helghast. As far as Drago was concerned, it was incredibly unfair. Moreover, it was a truly foolish decision that would come back to bite them. If anyone were to betray them, it would be someone like Kellan. He was high-risk from the start and Drago was baffled no one else was convinced of it.

"This is what we get for aligning ourselves with filth. One by one you are replacing our forces with these vermin. That halfbreed was one thing." 

"Mind your language."

"Sir. It kills me we invested so much in her and then what happened, she went and leaked Ethnic Bullet, killed Massar, caused that huge shitstorm."

"We have reasons for doing what we do. Those reasons are not subject to outside scrutiny." 

"Now there's this new one, and what is he? Full-blooded Vektan, straight from VSA. Why don't you just save everyone some time- mollycoddle him, promote five times over, get him to Major, and wait for him to hand the city over?"

"Is there some precedent, of which I was not aware, for-"

"You can fix all of this, Commander-" Drago interrupted.

"-an order, a federal one, being held up on _your_ approval?"

"-if only we just force Kellan out. He doesn't need to be- no, nor should be- your problem."

"He will likely be yours, if this keeps up." 

Drago wanted to lash out, but he was already treading the line between genuine concern and blatant insubordination. The line had already been crossed, really. Any more and he risked losing his job or his head. While Saric's sense of discipline was strict, he tended to be tolerant toward suggestions made in good faith- the only reason their conversation could continue this long. For someone like Drago, he had years of dutiful service to New Helghan worked consistently in his favor. He and long proven himself to be trustworthy. 

It didn't matter whether the others saw it or not. He knew he was in the right. The whole climate of the war was changing. And it might be that the Helghast militia was changing as well. Too much, for his liking.

* * *

His living quarters were assigned to him in a complex not far from the military office. It took him long to find it because it was neither near the Vektan border nor Containment City. Those were the only two areas of New Helghan which he knew well. 

The reception area was cramped and messy, and everything looked very outdated compared to the extravagant, high-tech complexes to which he was accustomed back on the other side. Here and there, there were small pro-government pamphlets and a Triad flag. There was a tiny end table with some cookies and other things. The receptionist was more than a bit startled to see anybody here; he could wager that this place wasn't very busy. Still, she was friendly enough and greeted him.

"Good, and you? Last name Kellan." He put in his best air of friendliness, despite being exhausted near the point of collapse. The escape, then the interrogation, then being held in a cell, then another cell, some more questioning, then the inauguration. It was at least two days with no sleep. The world around him still felt not a little distant and unreal.

"Ah." She pulled up some things on the computer, and seemed to be expecting him. It probably didn't matter, now, but inwardly he wondered how many people could tell he was a defector. Would it be put on his records, or his citizenship here? Did it matter that he looked Vektan and not Helghast? "Yes. Would you like some coffee, tea, or water?"

"No, I'm fine."

He just wanted to lie down. After a couple minutes, she produced an oversized tablet computer with a stylus. "Please, sign here." The disclosure on the screen indicated a bunch of routine things about the living quarters and smoke alarms and the occupancy being tied to his employment. He signed, gave it back to her, and she gave him some keys. "A-16". He thanked her and made his way to the other building, around the outdoor pathway, up the stairs and to the correct unit. 

He stepped in, ready to fall over and die. He set his things down on the table and went over to the bedroom.

The room was blissfully quiet. Even the sounds of transport traffic were ever so faint and far away. Moving from the blaring sounds of the warzone to this felt awfully strange. While he felt some sort of happiness for the first time since the escape, it was a sort of confused, empty feeling. It was an abrupt transition from the warzone to this, one that hadn't really sunk in yet. He fought with the window to open it, leaving the screen. Such a primitive contraption, by Vektan standards. The air was refreshing. He looked out the window. Just a tree-lined road, garbage cans, the other buildings in the complex. They had never had the money to fully modernize these places. Only very select members of New Helghan society were able to enjoy the type of luxuries that most Vektans took for granted. For some reason he couldn't explain, rather than uninviting, something about that made it feel all the more endearing.

His belongings all made it. Unfortunately, there was scarce little he could take with him: some clothes and what little room was left for other miscellany. His firearms were all seized by border patrol. The military enlisters seized his identification as well, and he was given New Helghan ID, residency papers, and everything else. Still, he did keep some old photos of him and Sinclair. How funny, he had more memorabilia of Sinclair than his real father, and they meant more to him. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think back to that gunfight under the pavilion. At times, he wondered if there was any other way. He would take anything above parting with Sinclair. Out of all the people and places he left behind, this part was the most difficult to come to terms with. If he were in his right mind, he should just cut all of these ties and be done with it. 'Should' was an unfair word, though. He put the photos on the shelf. He put the linens on the bed. He ought to stop thinking so much about all this. 

It was paradise, this departure from bullet fire and Vektan police. Crossing the wall was difficult as all hell. His odds escaping were never good, and his VSA-aligned self from back then doubted he would ever make it here. In spite of all that, here he was. Naturally, it wouldn't be long before he would have to cross back out into the conflict. But on some level, he looked forward to that, since it was part of his duty. For now, this was enough for him.

He sat down on the bed to test it. It was a bit squeaky and old, clearly a military-use item. Not anywhere near as nice as his lodgings back on the Vektan side. It would take some getting used to. He could dwell forever on how different everything was here, but none of this really concerned him. He lay down on it and became one with the pillow; it was the most blissful feeling in the world. He was ready to collapse. 

His mind swam. In times like these, in a moment with his thoughts, and he couldn't stay away from the remnants of his past life. The things he could still hold close. His past friends, people he used to know. There were so many memories that were part of a now-separate world. It would be healthier to just forget about all these people, now that he had crossed over to this side. There was the mechanic who first outfitted his custom Spoor. The teller at the bank he enjoyed talking to. Sinclair. And then there was military college. These past few days were so taxing it felt like a lifetime. All this seemed like ages ago. 

He really ought to get up, get something to eat or drink, or put the rest of his things away. It could wait, though. He closed his eyes.

Sometimes, it wasn't nice. All his griefs, the things he decided he wouldn't dwell on them anymore, started just to unfold themselves just then. What started as innocent daydreams turned into something else. People he envied, people he longed for. His old 'crush'. Years came and went, relationships came and went, it remained one of his go-to fantasies and that's all he could say about it. They knew nothing about each other, but Kellan just used that old mental image to try and get his rocks off. It was all happening again now. Sometimes he didn't even understand himself. Why did he have to fantasize over anyone in particular? Especially someone from all the way back then, who was god knows where now, and who Kellan knew was unavailable to him. But there was no sense in feeling guilty about this type of thing. Because what was the harm, really. He wasn't under any illusions of this being anything other than what it was. It wasn't 'love'. It wasn't anything. 

There were other, hungrier things eating him. He flashed back to the memories from two days ago. He needed to forgive himself, and come to terms with how nothing could ever bring Sinclair back. And now, having turned coat and joined the enemy faction- was that really what he would have wanted?

No. His muscles were aching, and his whole body was exhausted, he just needed some physical comfort, so why dredge up all this horrible stuff? Closing his eyes once again, he was lost in another world. 

In a corner of his mind, he wished that someone could just come in and magically fix all these problems for him. These were painful memories that shattered every part of him. In keeping the resolve of a soldier, it was something he could never tell anyone. But in private, he grew tired of it all. And in fact, no one could ever go back and fix the past. If he were to stand by waiting for his own hero, he would be waiting a long, long time. No, he had to just think of something else. It would be better that way. Times like these, those old memories flashed back to him, intermixed with disgusting fantasies about no person in particular. He only thought in terms of hands, tongues, bodies. He wanted to think of just that. Nothing was simple like it used to be. He could feel something like a force pushing him down. Pushing into him. He felt this sense of longing for something like that. The same one. 

* * *

Right at dawn, he set out to the military base's main cluster of facilities. They gave him some clothes- fatigue pants, the standard issue stuff, and a Helghast enforcement logo T-shirt. He was still without the full proper attire, any fire-arm, or the badge credential to enter most of the buildings. Map in hand, he finally found the briefing center and someone to let him in. 

The day was a long, and dull one. He sat through a long, dry orientation session. The next day was not much different. Nor, the one after that. Finally, it was time to actually brief for his first mission. He found his way to a cluster of office buildings at the far end of the facility. Compared to the industrial, worn-down look of the rest of the place, these areas were neat and bureaucratic. He knew of the room and the time at which he was supposed to report, and that was it. When he finally found the room, it turned out to be a medium-sized conference room with a dozen plush chairs and a table with a projector. Everything lit up and powered on, on sensor, when he entered the room. All of those chairs... How many people was he supposed to be meeting here? He made himself comfortable in one of them, and waited. Finally, he heard the door. But instead of some committee, it was a single officer. It wasn't Lt Fuller, it was someone he didn't recognize.

"Kellan?"

"Sir." He stood up, and stood at attention. 

"At ease. No worries, I'm not really the one you're supposed to be meeting with today." 'Supposed to' in air quotes. "I'm Lt Green. Nice to meet you. "He shook Kellan's hand." I heard a lot about you from the border folks. Quite an unbelievable story." 

"I can't believe it, either."

"It's my job here, to say 'Welcome'. You don't have to feel all alone here, either. There are lots of Vektans nowadays. There's a Vektan over in the State Operations group. Really an excellent marksman. I've heard good things about you, too."

"I'm happy to hear that."

"One moment- the lights are awfully bright, in here. You'll want the projector, too." The cold-color light was awfully harsh. Kellan couldn't really be bothered with it. Green adjusted some switches on the wall panel, seemingly well familiar with this place, and the lights changed to a warmer tone, and less of them were on. At the same time, the hologram projector in the middle of the room whirred and powered on. "There."

"Something tells me you'll fit in well. Also I did want to let you know that we processed your credentials, and we should have them sent out to you soon. You'll receive a new badge, and can discard the temporary one, and all of that. It won't be long before you're fully up and running. What's going to happen next is- and we do this for some of our new hires, the ones who show exceptional ability- some of the higher-ups in the chain of command will also give them an introduction."

"Oh-" Kellan was about to say that the VSA did the same thing. It would be better not to bring that stuff up.

"So, here's where it gets interesting. Sometimes it's one of our captains, sometimes it's someone even more senior than that. It depends. In this case, you are really fortunate- our enforcement commander is available today, so he will take the opportunity to personally introduce himself."

"T-that's-"

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"I expect you to show the proper respect."

"Yes, sir."

"Of course, you already know that. If you'll excuse me. He should be here in just a few minutes."

"Sir."

Green left and Kellan was alone in the conference room once again. The minutes were dull, and the walls were blank, save for a small 'please keep this area clean' placard mounted near the disposal. His eyes were tired, but he was much too full of nerves and adrenaline for any urge to rest. About twenty minutes after that, he heard the automatic door sliding open. 

The long trenchcoat. The visor. It was hard to believe this was really happening. He recognized him right away. It was a strange moment, and the first time seeing Saric while not a prisoner. Kellan hid his anxiousness, and swallowed all emotion. He jolted up, and stood, straight-backed, at attention. He was too dazed by what was happening to be afraid for what all of this meant. He kept posture, a blank face, and saluted, in the normal way which was expected when addressing a superior. "Sir."

The detainment. This was his first time seeing Commander Saric since then. Out of all his former enemies, to finally come face-to-face with Saric again- it was unnerving. Never had he thought this day would come.

"Operative Lucas Kellan. At ease." 

Kellan relaxed his posture, still standing. "I must say, it's a surprise, seeing the likes of our most famous VSA Shadow Marshal here. Wearing our colors. It's... unprecedented." There wasn't any particular hostility from the Helghast. It was not especially warm, either. After everything that happened, the enmity leading up until now, Kellan couldn't know what to expect. 

"Sir."

There was this dark, sinking feeling- the elephant in the room was something else. There was no telling what this was forboding. Saric keyed something into his organizer to link it to the projector. He turned back to Kellan. "Your intention is to get started, now?"

"Yes. Lt Fuller is interested in having me demonstrate my commitment." 

"I can clearly remember a phone call at four the morning, assuring me how committed you were." He wondered know whose lap the decision ultimately landed on. Saric had at least some part in it, then. 

"Sir."

"Our recruitment of you was a most unusual turn of events." He spoke, pacing leisurely down the conference room. "There was no controversy concerning your qualifications, and the benefit you would add to our corps, including something especially unusual- the personal endorsement of Chancellor Visari. Your past service on the VSA has caused a... troubled relationship between you and New Helghan. It was something everyone was willing to overlook, for the opportunity of acquiring you, and denying Vekta the same."

"Sir."

He continued, "In an expression of the good will of our Chancellor Visari, you are appointed to a role in our forces similar to your old position." His voice was stern, as always. This was a bit unsettling, this conversation could go any number of ways. Kellan didn't know what he should be expecting from his former enemy. Hands clasped behind his back, Saric gazed out the window as some air transports were docking. "As you certainly know, our task force strives to utilize the full talent, and unfettered potential of each and every new volunteer. Especially, in special cases like yours." 

He turned back toward Kellan. "It does this very, very effectively. However, it does not have a "Shadow Marshal" designation. That being the case, this will mark the formation of a new type of unit, what we will call the New Helghan Stealth Elite Squad, or SE, a variation of our specialist infantry designation. While this is given the term 'squad', the division, in practice, is to contain only yourself. The reason for this being: the group will be fully authorized to use Vektan firearms, VSA shielding equipment and drone technology which are replicated from the manufacturer. These will be outfitted very similarly to the VSA 'Shadow Marshal' program. This will both benefit our corps by using the enemy's strength against them, as well as ease your transition to our forces." Weird and bureaucratic. Typical of the Helghast Army, as he understood it. "Because your designation must bypass the normal staffing procedure, you report to Fuller through to Hera Visari, not to me. Although our work will very likely cause us to cross paths. I trust you will find this acceptable."

"Yes, sir." He tried his complete damndest to put on the facade of being unfazed by this news. Kellan was overjoyed- this was better than he could have ever expected. Not only were they letting him into their forces without some probationary catch, they were letting him keep his old position. No, they were _pulling strings_ to make it very close to his old post. It wouldn't normally be possible. 'Shadow Marshal' was always a VSA thing only.

But as he thought about it more, it made sense. It felt like they were doing him a favor, but they weren't. In his time with the VSA, he acquired a set of combat skills that separated him from the others. The Helghast forces didn't take him in because they had a crush on him. They took him in because he would be a useful asset. The Shadow Marshal unit was extremely well-renowned, and was a key factor in making the Vektan army superior in stealth and espionage missions. It gave them an edge in the Second Extrasolar War. If the Helghast could simply take that unit for themselves, their special ops group would be unstoppable. Kellan couldn't singlehandedly replace an entire unit, but he was confident enough in his abilities to believe that this was Visari's real intention. He knew it, ever since the second detainment, that Visari was intent on making him defect. 

"We must all do our best to ensure that the transition will go smoothly."

"Sir."

Saric came back across the room, and stood directly across the desk from the soldier, leaning over it. "Kellan, wouldn't you say that..." He re-chose his words. "Before your transition here, you spent time in Helghast captivity. You were captured by our security forces and interrogated."

"Yes."

Saric wanted to continue this difficult subject. He wanted to ask Kellan what his attitude, really, could be toward the Helghast now. How did that whole thing affect him, if at all? What was it, really- his recollection of the whole thing? How did he reconcile all of this with his allegiance to them? Of all the ways of asking these questions, none of them were easy. 

Saric wasn't even entirely convinced that he could trust Kellan under these circumstances. It shouldn't be that way, but it was- the Vektan had every reason to be seeking revenge on the their military. They were responsible for the death of his father, and for doing violence to Kellan personally. It was a rather cruel issue to contend with, because while Kellan himself had suffered at their hands, welcoming him with open arms was a risk. And yet here they were, disseminating their military secrets to Kellan and giving him a respectable rank in their forces, straight off the bat. It was a risk they were eager to take, because the benefits were so clear. He was an excellent marksman and an exceptional soldier- too good to pass up. They could only bank on the fact that, maybe, the VSA were making good on his banishment and he indeed couldn't go back to them if he tried.

What Saric didn't know was, Kellan's enlistment in their forces was genuine. Despite everything that happened, he wasn't at all invested in some personal vendetta against the Helghast as a whole, or even against Saric. Kellan was practical, and never a subscriber to an eye for an eye. He wanted no part in some crusade, and that was one of the things that separated him from Sinclair. He wanted to do his job, as well as possible. That was all. Joining the Helghast was the best opportunity for him if he still wanted a military life, while he didn't preach their ideals or share their DNA.

"As we find ourselves belonging of the same military body, we now share the same goals. To accomplish New Helghan's goals, each one of us must be fully functional members of our enforcement. In my role in the chain of command, it is my job to ensure this is true for you as well."

"All right."

"Let me not dress this up in obfuscated terms or evasive language. Your treatment in the Cell was not some quirk in our judicial procedure, or some accident of our detainment process. It was a result of my deliberate action and choices." 

There was still no emotion in his voice. Usually people in positions like Saric's would weasel their way out of situations like these, and conveniently pile all the blame on their reporting chain, or the actions of their subordinates. The fact that Saric would do this was surprising, and took him off guard. "During your detainment, because of your access to the VSA's military intelligence, many information-gathering tactics were green-lit for you specifically. Many of them were aggressive or dangerous. I signed off on many of these actions. Others, and the most intrusive of them, I executed personally. In doing so, I made things difficult for you." Euphemism of the century. "Now that you are no longer the enemy, the circumstances have changed. Injuries to our enemies are a complicated matter- injury to our personnel are not. They must be resolved or prevented, because they stifle our success."

"As a soldier and as a man, I've already come to terms with the things I would go through in captivity. I can't afford to be affected by them, especially now." 

He peered at Kellan squarely, puzzling a bit over what Kellan was really saying. "There are concerns- and these are concerns that I share- that your working with me will pose a significant 'conflict of interest.'"

Kellan paused, thinking about this carefully. "I don't anticipate a problem, sir."

Saric frowned. He was after something. There was no saying what it was. There was no reading him. "There is also the issue of your attachments to the other side."

"I've cut off all my ties with people on the Vektan side. Although, I do know some VSA military personally."

"Do you want me to guarantee that the other operatives will protect you? Do you want me to reassure you, that you won't have to kill your former comrades?" With, of course, the implication of: he wasn't promising any of that.

"I don't need any promises. I don't need any reassurance that this will go well. Tell me who to kill."

Visari valued Kellan as a part of their new anti-Black Hand initiative, placing him above any other operative they could poach off the VSA. And this must be why. No one could doubt Kellan's vehemence- it was nothing if not a little impressive. Even Saric could appreciate this. Time would tell whether Kellan could actually deliver, though. While Saric was never altogether pleased with anything lately, the answer seemed to more than satisfy him. "Then, I will brief you on our current project."

"Sir." Kellan found it funny that the Helghast called it a 'project'. Usually with the Vektans it would be a 'mission'. Saric stepped toward the computer and navigated past some Helghan script. This was one part of his new life to which Kellan was still acclimatizing. He could read some of the words, but it took effort.

"The elimination of Vladko Tyran." Saric brought some data up on the interface, showing a Tyran's familiar picture, a description of identifying characteristics, and criminal history. "As you undoubtedly know, this man has been a fugitive from New Helghan enforcement for quite some time. His affiliation with the Black Hand is long-standing. It appears that he has united them and become their leader, in practice. This man is guilty of war crimes against the state. He has committed murder, kidnapping and anti-government espionage. So far, he has eluded capture through his connections in Containment City and through the exploitation of his anti-government sympathizers. However, we have some leads on his whereabouts now. We need at least one agent to infiltrate the city, posing as a Black Hand sympathizer. Then seek him out, and apprehend him. We have determined that this is a more effective course of action than an outright military engagement. Our forces have tried that already, and it was not effective."

For Kellan, these situations no longer intimidated him. He no longer reservations about cutting to the important questions. "Is New Helghan intending to co-operate with the VSA, knowing that they are searching for him independently?"

"No, there are no current plans to do that. All we will do, is use the VSA informants' data on Black Hand whereabouts to supplement our intelligence." 

"Why only that?"

"While I don't doubt the size of the VSA's investments, we can't rely on their actions." Time and time again, this was proven to the Helghast to be true. 

"When you find Tyran, what do you intend to do with him?"

"Confidential."

"Do you need him alive or dead?"

"We need him in whatever manner of state you can obtain him." Saric brought his focus away from the interface, and toward him. "Kellan. Can you undertake this?"

"Yes." Kellan had no doubt he would succeed this time. Tyran only escaped before through a mere stroke of luck. He was only a hair's breath away. There was no way he could maintain his control over the Black Hand while keeping such a low profile, especially now that he had pissed off so many people. It felt personal now. Kellan would try as many times as it took.

"Here." Saric handed Kellan a portable data storage unit with all the information. Kellan was more than a little curious whether there was anything here that the VSA hadn't already unearthed. There would be enough time to examine it later. "Normally, the new personnel are required to have several weeks of orientation, not just one. Our enlistment board was fairly confident of you, and our needs for this project are urgent. Because of that, you have the opportunity, if you choose, to skip all of that and begin right away. Your past on the VSA can give the equivalent credential. How does that sound?"

"That's fine."

"Good. One of the captains assigned on this will be in touch with you tomorrow, and you will discuss the plans. You are dismissed."

"Sir." Saric started to leave. 

Kellen wondered if he could forego some of the formality of all this. Like how he did with Sinclair. If he came across as rude, people might just give him the benefit of the doubt and assume it was just some carried-over behavior from the VSA. Also, people always cared about this stuff way less than he ever thought. He would just try it until he got reprimanded. 

"Commander Saric-" the Helghast stopped, and turned back around, to find Kellan asking- "since arriving here, I've been unable to access any internal files, or any Vektan media. Can you tell me about the new VSA Director?"

"You mean Sinclair's replacement." Saric didn't react at all, to the breach of the usual formality. It must not have concerned him too much. "It's very early to say anything. I know she has strong ties to the Vektan Reform-Alliance party on Gyre, with a specific campaign promise to shut down the Helghast Workers' Union."

"Then, the rumors are true."

Saric arched an eyebrow. "Rumors?"

"There was always someone vying for Sinclair's job, someone who fits that exact same description."

"Then, perhaps you would know better than our staff if this will change anything for Vekta. As I remember it, Director Sinclair publicly endorsed the same thing." Saric started toward the door, while speaking.

"Maybe, maybe not." Kellan followed along. They walked more or less side-by-side down the long corridor leading back to the area overlooking reception, far down below. A spiral staircase left a gap in the middle, where one could see all the way to the bottom. "The same people who appointed her, appointed Sinclair. There are some moderates, some VSA, but now, a handful of the seats belong to people in the Vektan Independence Movement. It's odd, since everyone used to dismiss them as being irrelevant."

"We did as well, at one point." They came up to the elevator area. Saric keyed the first floor on the elevator control.

"But it's the exact same party. And so, I don't expect any compassion or co-operation from them, especially now." 

The elevator started downward. The clear glass siding offered a clear view of the modern structure, floor after floor. There was a quiet lull. Suddenly everything became very tense. He remembered the last time he was in an enclosed space with Saric. Things where much different then. The lift chamber was rather small, and they were not two paces away from each other. He could hear the other man breathe, through that same visor. That thought, it was inevitable and he wondered whether Saric was clued into the same thing. There was only silence. Finally, the elevator came to a stop on the lobby floor.

"Play your cards right. Maybe they will lead you to Tyran." 

"Yeah." 

The scenery here was a complete blur and nothing looked familiar, even though Kellan was in this same reception area only short hours ago. The stress and anxiety of starting life anew here, would require more time to acclimatize to all of these new buildings, people, written system, everything. 

Suddenly, what appeared to be a high-ranking general burst through the far set of doors. "Commander, sir!"

"General Ross."

"If you'll forgive me for asking- the staging meeting..."

"Yes, we are still doing it. There's still time. Kellan, you're dismissed." Saric left with the general through the far doors. Kellan supposed that most of the high-ranking Helghasts' days were spent like this. It was much like Sinclair's position after being promoted to Director, rushing from one military planning meeting to another. Interesting how he made the progression from a man of battle and bloodshed, to something of authority like this. That was not to say Sinclair didn't ever get back into it. He was as sharp as ever and Kellan almost paid for it with his life. If Kellan were a betting man, he supposed that Saric's history was little different. He asked the receptionist for directions back to the main briefing center, who was friendly enough, and he found his way back.

Back at his living quarters, he found himself on the same bed, closing his eyes. 

One long, strange day after another. Kellen wasn't concerned with being targeted here by the other Helghast, anymore. The past wasn't important enough to affect him. Still, he thought back to that day and he could still feel the hands on him. The wounds. The tremendous pressure. All of these, the consequences of being Saric's enemy. He didn't know which was worse: that back then, Saric clearly got something out of mistreating Kellan, or that Kellan couldn't stop thinking about it at all the wrong times. 

He wanted to come back to that earlier world, where none of this mattered and everything was simple. To put it succinctly, he wanted to just rub one out and go to sleep. He couldn't deny that he got off on what happened that day. Much as he tried to push it to the back of his mind, he couldn't. There was a side to him, just like there was to Saric- a side that was perverse. He used to think the Helghast were somehow above and beyond these types of things- unfeeling and desexed. It wasn't true. They were indeed human, or something like it- prone to all the same physical desires, susceptible to the same weaknesses. He could still feel the hands on his body, and the feeling of utter defenselessness and subjugation. There wasn't even any room for despair- only, a warped sense of desire. Finally, he sighed and opened his eyes. He looked down and realized he was hard. He couldn't resist- he slid a hand down into his boxers. He touched it half-heartedly, in no hurry. He spat into his hand so that it would feel better. Everything kept drifting away to something strange and remote. To something else.


	2. Chapter 2

The districts outside of the capital were a strange mix of wealth and disrepair, of high and low technology. Red triads normally illuminated fell muted against the daylight. The long, outdoor channel was lined checkpoint gates and storefronts, with many stretches of gray residential zoning beyond that. It was nothing as bad as what he saw in Containment City, but it looked far less polished than what he remembered of Vekta. There was a clear division of wealth in New Helghan, and absolute power was maintained by the state. Propaganda was everywhere in addition to the permanent signage strewn across all the infrastructure. Oddly enough much of the state property was in good condition. The state provided for their upkeep and the punishments for vandalism were severe. 

He passed by someone, a Helghast woman with her hands in her pockets, head down. They made no eye contact and passed one another by. He briefly considered asking her for information, or a simple hello, but he wanted to attract as little attention as possible, and not risk starting any trouble. They separated off in separate directions down the long road. Here, Kellan looked like any other man. He was dressed in neither his cloaking gear nor the Helghast armor and visor. This was a stealth operation and it needed to stay that way. He had ways of still being armed to the teeth, nonetheless- he had no fewer than six firearms on his person. The Black Hand center of operations was said to be somewhere around here. The data from the meeting with Saric to got him this far. He had a lead on how to access the hideout. He looked over each block for the one that matched the description.

Finally- the sign on the front read, 'Discount Drywall Supplies' with a 'We match all prices!' sign written on paper with markers. He went up to the front entrance, glanced around and stepped inside. The storefront was quite cozy. There was large, handwritten pricing chart up at the top, and sitting behind the counter was a bored-looking woman watching a Helghast local television feed. Buckets of paint and boxes of adhesive were stacked haphazardly all around leaving little floor space. She snapped out of it, unaccustomed to seeing much of anyone venture through the door. 

"Can I help you?"

He carefully articulated the code phrase. "I'd like to fulfill an order. I hope it's not too late."

"Did you phone it in?" 

That was the prompt for the passcode. "It's already expired." 

She looked at him skeptically. "Come with me." Going up to the wall in the back, Kellan studied it a bit more. Like any local place around here, it was lined with posters for every manner of thing- adverts, militia recruitment, announcements for local concerts and events, and of course government propaganda. The posters were densely arrayed, and it looked like any other wall. But he saw, where she reached toward- it wasn't flat, like the rest of the wall- it stood out. The posters wrapped right around it like anything else, but it was a doorknob. She pressed it in and turned it to reveal a wall-concealed door, made utterly invisible through the posters. "This way."

Kellan went first. It was a creaky wooden staircase going down, down, into dust and nothing he could see. She closed the door behind him leaving him standing alone in a pitch-black chamber. He pressed a key on his wristwatch, and it dimly illuminated green. It was enough to see the narrow staircase below him and the walls on either side. One by one, he went down the steps, glancing around for something that looked like a light but finding nothing. He heard the faint murmur of nondescript machines on the other side of the wall. This place was designed for, carefully wrapped around the maintenance duct. He would guess that these kinds of secret chambers were all kinds of illegal if the government ever got word of them. Besides terrorist activity, there was indeed a black market all across New Helghan, and supposed that the smuggling of goods were linked to places like these. 

After what felt like two stories down, he saw an end to the staircase. It was another door, solid metal with bars and what looked like a gunshot hole. It belonged on the front of some prison cell. He pulled the U-shaped handle and it came open, yielding another large chamber. There was light on the other side of it, though. No, not just that. 

The next set of iron bars on the door at the end of the chamber overlooked onto something else. Something that looked distinctly like what Kellan came here fore. There were two human-looking figures, dressed in street clothes, gathering around a table with a holograph machine. One of them was attaching projection interfacing to their clothes. The same ones that he saw before. Where Kellan was, there were instructions for creating explosives out of machine refuse, and diagrams of various buildings around Vekta. It was a miracle that his journey down the stairs didn't alert them. He suppose that the chain of chambers with metal doors was acting in his favor. Then, voices.

"See this? It's worth more than the both of us."

"One shot..." Kellan couldn't hear parts of it. "...-ake it count."

"And it needs to work this time."

Kellan keyed something into his watch that alerted the militia base of his position. A confirmation came in. He would radio in but it was not safe to do so. He pulled up an image analysis of the two figures and both were confirmed to not be Tyran, but Black Hand suspects all the same. 

There was no time to think. He went right for the corner and stayed there.

"With him and Visari gone, no one wi-"

"Did you hear something?"

He switched off his watch to suppress the light.

"Yeah. Over that way."

The two figures suddenly turned toward him and threw the metal door open. The light filled the room and Kellan's cover was blown. They both pulled out firearms and one of them brandished a shotgun at him.

"Hands up. State your business here."

"Don't you see? He's Helghast military. Look at that watch."

"Shit, shit, shit."

Kellan said, "Tell me where Tyran is. This is an order from Chancellor Visari."

The one holding the pistol said nothing. Swiftly, he disengaged the safety and pulled the trigger. It was something to show he wasn't messing around. He shot at Kellan then and there.

The searing pain. Blood on the floor. The bullet went through Kellan's shoulder, and passed out the other side.

Leaving no time for the wounded soldier to intercept him, the Black Hand member without the gun sprinted off. Before the one that shot him could fire again, Kellan returned fire, and shot him twice. The quarters were small, such that he barely needed to aim. The man went down, and Kellan came up to him and seized the weapon away.

"Tell me, where is Tyran?!"

"They wasted him..."

"He's dead?" The soldier gazed up, gasping, staring at nothing. Kellan struck him into attention. "Is he dead?!"

"Yeah. 'Traitor did it. The traitor is dead now, too." So there was some kind of mutiny in the Black Hand. And, Kellan supposed, necessarily a change in leadership.

"Who is the new leader?"

"A one of yours." There was a small, gloating smile. "A Michal Drago." No. Kellan's eyes lit up. It was impossible, right? Wasn't Drago part of the Helghast forces?

"Are you screwing with me?" The man said nothing. He gazed into space, and ignored Kellan completely. It was enough for Kellan to believe this was for real, though. "You're coming with me." The man suddenly grabbed something out of one of his pockets- it was too fast to see much of anything. It appeared to be a pill. Kellan tried to wrest the thing out of his hands, but it was too small and too late- he dropped it in his mouth, and bit down on it. Shit. 

It was some sort of poison. The man's eyes rolled back and he laid still. He was dead. 

Kellan sat back, swore bitterly, then switched on the COM of his earpiece.

"I-5 to Lima."

"Yeah."

"Found two operatives. One mover, the other I detained, some questioning, but now he is dead."

"Any information?"

"Yes. It's not good news, though. Tyran is dead, Lieutenant."

A pause on the other end. "Come again?"

"Tyran is dead. There was a mutiny and they killed him."

"Really." There was some incredulous silence, and then some inquisitive voices in the background.

"Yeah. If this guy is to be believed. There's more- this isn't really an appropriate channel." Kellan concealed his weapon back inside his jacket and did his best to lift himself up off the floor. There was some spots of blood on his clothes, and he put pressure on his shoulder to help with the wound. It hurt like a mother.

"That's fine. What's your personal status, I-5?

"Some scrapes. I'm in one piece."

"Then, please listen. We've got info on the mover." 

He leaned back against the wall. "What kind of information?" 

"Not a lot, but it's something. He found some tunnel underground to the public utilities building, and outside from there. Looked like he was starting toward District 3. That's what we could gather from the radar tag. After that, we lost the signal." District 3 was well-known for housing rich corporations and government officials, the most well-to-do citizens of New Helghan. "Smells like an assassination attempt, doesn't it?"

"Sure. Understood." He didn't immediately know what a good plan would be. "You want me to try and track him down?"

"Yes. We've deployed another unit in that direction to back you up, but it's unclear whether they'll make it in time, or if they'll fare any better."

He went back up the stairs, fearing a confrontation. The storefront was empty. Most likely that storekeeper left when the gunshots started. It was a tough spot to be in, being a front for a Black Hand operation. He assumed nobody really wanted that job. Kellan pulled some gauze out of his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulder to delay the need for medical attention to the wound. He left the store and found himself back on the empty street, with no trace of anyone. It was quiet, and exactly the same as before. Despite the gunshots and the skirmish underground, nobody was the wiser and the handful of people outside here simply went on with their day. He needed to move out of here, and not attract any more attention. Every moment he waited, the enemy was moving further away.

The lead from mission control wasn't much, but it was all he had. He took the nearest transport to District 3. 

* * *

The massive wrought-iron gate spotted with carvings and etched inlays stood many spans taller than him, reinforced with actual modern security surveillance equipment. The gate, the statues, everything else in the exterior of this District consisted of relics which were older than they needed to be. There was no shortage of money to completely modernize and rebuild these, but they were kept this way as an appeal to everyone's sense of nostalgia for something from a different planet. The larger-than-life, stylized statue of Autarch Visari mid-salute remained at the front, greeting visitors coming in. Behind that were towering buildings, one after another, a fusion of the highest advances of architecture on Earth and the structures back on Pyrrhus. The white structures were built upward as much as outward. At a glance, if not for the blue Vektan sky, it really did look like Pyrrhus before the disaster. The nicest possible aspects of their home planet, that is. Even Helghast that never set foot on Helghan could feel a sense of solidarity, in seeing what could have been.

Inside the grounds were many big office buildings with the Triad insignia, residential areas, and statues commemorating the great historical strides of the Helghast working force. Kellan made his way over to the front gate and badged in. No cloak, no need for sneaking around. It was the strangest mental hurdle. In his past life with the VSA, all of this would have been certain death. It reminded him of something. The last time he tried to infiltrate Containment City, he disguised himself as a refugee crossing back over. His name and credentials were fake. The sweaty palms, the anxiety, as he wondered if this checkpoint would be the last thing he ever saw. Now, everything was legitimate. Yet, that feeling still lingered. The computer chirped and recognized his credential, with a message 'Welcome, Lucas Kellan!' in Helghast script. The gates opened and he came in and looked around. 

He followed the signal through mazes of structures, then inside the complex itself. He had nothing to go on except clues from the signal interception. It was getting closer, and closer. Finally, he locked onto it. He was somewhere nearby here, for certain. There was no one around, though. All that was here was a door. The mover had to be in here. Out of all the hiding spots in the world, he ought to probably pick something more secluded. In any case, Kellan hacked the locking mechanism on the door and carefully went through.

He only caught a glimpse of the inside of this place. It was clearly made for old money, the nicest place he had ever seen this side of the Wall. Everything was very clean and modern. Apart from that it felt distinctly Helghast. The amount of Triads and propaganda here was slightly more subdued compared to how it was in the cities. The signal took him from one tower to another, though a pavilion of sorts, then finally to a cluster of buildings at the end. He followed it inside, up a clear glass lift, and through one big hallway after another.

Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. He pulled out his computer to figure out what the hell was going on. If he could get a hold on the agent nearby, he could hack their communications again and get a read on where they were.

It didn't take long. He found the signal.

Except- it was right here. 

Somewhere, maybe ten paces or less away. Kellan glanced around. Where could he be? Inside the vents? Or- on the other side of this wall. Down the hall, in eyesight, was a door. That had to be it. This place had to be equipped with more than a few security mechanisms. It would be ridiculous for it not to. He came up to the front door and cabled it to his computer. To his surprise, the security was already down. It slid open automatically. Glancing inside, it appeared to be a large, expensive dwelling of some sort.

Inside the dwelling, he could see through the chain of rooms, off toward the sliding door to the balcony. 

It wasn't empty. There was someone here.

It was too far away to tell much of anything for sure. Kellan squinted and came up to get a closer look. The person was male, a bit taller than average. It was only a silhouette. Everything became more discernible as Kellan moved further along the side of the wall. The man was clad in some vertical-striped boxers, an undershirt, and an open robe. He looked fit although not all that trim. He had a cup of coffee in hand. With the other he was using some kind of portable computer, standing there, reading something. There was something about him. Something a little bit frightening. At the same time, something familiar. He couldn't immediately place why. This was a bald Helghast, perhaps a bit older than him, and by the location, seemingly associated with the Party. So, it could be anyone. It... no.

"Kellan?!"

Kellan's eyes shot wide open as the realization sank in. The man looked over at him, even in the distance- Kellan was unmasked so his own identity was clear. And now he knew. Kellan could never imagine what this man looked like without the mask and everything else. Surely, he was already in a world of shit for barging right in here. There was very little he could even say. In part, he wanted to get a closer look. In part, he would want to try and pick up the pieces from coming in here, and prevent himself from being in a world of shit. There was no time. He followed the Black Hand trail right here, and he knew exactly what they were capable of. No, this wasn't some fluke or some random act of terrorism. They were targeting this location, specifically. He remembered what he heard in the tunnel. The two targets of the Black Hand. This was an assassination attempt on Saric, and ultimately on the senators, and Hera Visari as well. "Commander." 

"What are you doing here?" Even the voice. It sounded so much different, without the filter. It was literally a face he had not seen. A voice he had never heard. It was a completely different person. Except, it wasn't.

"'Apologize for the intrusion, S-" Kellan was cut off- he was struck to the ground with a swift blow to the head. 

The Black Hand operative was right on his back, bludgeoning him with a metal bar. He had been hiding around the other wall, waiting for Kellan or his mark. Now, it was his lucky day- both in the same spot. The impact was fierce- the metal made full contact with Kellan and there was so much force behind it, it rang all around inside his ears, shaking his whole body, the loud noise echoing throughout the room. Kellan had his hands full. He had to react quickly. He couldn't expect Saric to be getting him out of this one- there was no way a Helghast official would jeopardize his own life for the safety of someone like him. In any case, it didn't matter. 

Kellan's face was one with the hardwood floor. Fortunately he was used to these types of scuffles and slammed his elbow into the man's face. The agent tried to force him back down but the blow staggered him and he was too slow. Kellan tried to snatch the metal out of the man's hand. He wanted to reach for the firearm concealed in his jacket but there was no way he could get a hand free enough to grab and engage it in time. Instead, he kept his grip on the metal bar and tried to pull it away. The momentum allowed Kellan to twist face-up and take a swing at the agent. It didn't connect very well and the agent grabbed Kellan by the neck, trying to hold him back down. The agent had strong arms, and it would have been enough to subdue most people. Kellan's neck was braced by his uniform, weakening the choke-hold. Kellan now had both hands free. He delivered a solid right hook to the Black Hand agent's face. 

The impact was enough to knock the agent off and gain the upper hand. Kellan tried again to seize the metal bludgeoning tool away. The agent grabbed onto it, trying once more to knock Kellan out with his fists. With all his strength Kellan pulled and pulled. They deadlocked this way. Finally Kellan delivered his knee straight into the agent's solar plexus, leaving the man winded. It was enough so that he could obtain the metal bar, leaving the other man apparently defenseless. He pinned the agent down, bracing the metal bar against the man's neck. This was decided.

"What were your orders from Drago?!"

While the agent was masked in a Helghast facepiece, there was a smile in his voice. "Too little, too late."

"What?"

"You, together with that traitor behind you. It's too late. There's no use resisting." Kellan was highly unused to having someone else be called the traitor. Then he remembered the Black Hand's opinion of all the New Helghan leadership. It was what they believed, although it wasn't true.

"This operation of yours- you're about to be shut down."

There was a small chuckle. "Is that what this means?" The agent gestured toward something on his gear, near his pocket.

Shit. It was a small device with a timer, ever going down, small wires jutting out of the sides. A crudely-made, timed explosive. He must have activated it during their skirmish. Kellan glanced around it. It was completely tethered to the agent. He thought to try and cut it apart from him to remove it. Yet there was no distinguishing adhesive wires from functional ones. This was the man's plan all along- to attempt a suicide bombing right in these quarters. He wanted to demand from him how to disable it, but knew it would be no use.

The Black Hand agent laid still now, confident that the future was decided. 

Only a couple minutes left on the timer. There weren't many options that would leave him alive. Kellan had one idea. He grabbed the agent, now unarmed, and pulled him outside of the room. It was a bit of a struggle but the fight had worn him out. The man tried to fight him again in the hallway but Kellan pushed him back. Finally, they approached the door to the freight elevator. Kellan pushed the man inside and hit the button. The bomber tried to get back out, but Kellan kicked him back in there. The door closed, and he heard the elevator moving down. It made it about a third of the way to the lower floor. 

The timer on the bomb fully elapsed. Loud and sharp, the explosion thundered loud in the hallway. It was completely contained by the thick metal doors of the freight elevator. The elevator, of course, was in ruins. It malfunctioned and returned to the floor where Kellan was. As the door opened, Kellan's gun was drawn. But inside was nothing but dust and undiscernable remnants.

Kellan collapsed back against the wall. At the same time, Saric came out into the hall.

"Explain this."

Kellan panted, collecting his breath, trying to conserve his energy to stay conscious. "Suicide bomber, Black Hand. I followed him here from District 5. They were organizing something right here to target a few others and yourself, and I was under orders to intercept them."

"Impressive." He glanced around, and could give them that. "They made it all the way in here. They disabled the door security. We underestimated them."

"Yeah."

The Helghast looked at him thoughtfully. The trespassing was far from an important issue now. 

Kellan thought to try and phone home to mission control with everything that just transpired. He jostled the button on the wrist device. It was no use.

"COM's dead." 

It was the most bizarre thing ever. Much as he tried to play it cool, it was impossible. Seeing this man's legs, his neck, his eyes. He had a rather fatherly face and some signs of tiredness and crow's feet, although Kellan didn't guess he was too much older than himself. One thing was for sure- he looked completely Helghast, through and through. His facial features, his mannerisms. Everything. Kellan knew that he flesh and blood just like him, and yet this was hard to fully register. Now was just no time. It was inappropriate to just stand there gawking like that- he shouldn't even be here. He wanted to touch the man's face for some reason. He had to just stop. Pull it together.

"If you must, there's one here." That voice. It was so difficult to reconcile everything.

"Thank you."

In the time it took for the confrontation in the city district, then to travel here, then everything that happened, it was now well into the evening. He'd lost track.

He followed Saric into the living quarters. Only now did he get a better look at everything. The place was spacious and modern, while at the same time distinctively Helghast. There was a large fish tank along one wall. Cold-colored light from the adjacent room shone through the it, projecting a bright, moving impression of water on the hard floor below. The high ceilings and large glass windows made Kellan feel like he was out of doors, somehow. And then a whole multitude of Helghast emblems and war decorations lining another. Another screen permanently tickered news from around the planet Vekta, and particularly the local reports around New Helghan. There was a holograph projector off to one side with some comfortable furniture and coffee table. Moonlight peered through the glass into this space. 

Following Saric, he passed through another glass hallway. 

"It's here." Kellan entered the keycode for Fuller, and it connected. Saric stayed at the side, none too rustled by what just happened, sipping his coffee.

"Lima, sir."

"I-5, what's the status? You went dark. I'm reading this location now. Why are you... where you are?"

"I intercepted the mover. Somehow I got a downlink to his outbound connection. I followed him to this location. Suspected hostility and confirmed. He was a holding a charge. He intended to detonate at this location, and targeted specific, uh, government individuals. Armed similar to the other one." 'Holding a charge' was their term for the actions of a- usually Black Hand- suicide bomber. "I encountered him. The encounter was hostile. It was impossible to deactivate the charge. CCE successful." CCE was 'to carry out a controlled explosion'. "Casualties- none to report. Damage to the building property." 

"Nice work, I-5. Let's discuss all the details when you RV back here. It will probably be tomorrow. I'm out for the evening. You can talk to Green when you get back."

"Sir." They disconnected. Kellan awkwardly pressed the button on the COM- it was an unfamiliar layout with lots of Helghast script. He turned back to Saric. 

"That's qui- excuse me." The Helghast's voice cracked and broke. Then, his breathing sounded labored as he quickly looked around for something. He produced a small device. It was something Kellan had seen before, particularly on unmasked Helghast. He breathed into it. It was some kind of inhaler. He let out several more deep breaths, and finally sounded normal once again. "That's quite some story."

"Yes, unfortunately. There's been rumors, but nothing about an organized effort like this, to target here."

"Did Fuller know?"

"He does now." Kellan said. Saric put his coffee down. Only now, did Kellan get a chance to look into the man's eyes. They were a dramatic color, a deep blueish grey, so much different than how he imagined, if he were to bother thinking about that. It went along with the paleness of the rest of him. He didn't want to be caught staring. He shouldn't be here. The line had already been crossed. It was all he could do now just to diffuse the situation.

Despite the storm moments before, and the bomber that threatened his life, Saric stayed unfazed and acted as if it were business as usual. It probably was. "That could have ended in several different ways. I will have high hopes about our enforcement, if we are to have men willing to do what you just did." Even now, everything about him commanded authority somehow.

"I'm very fortunate for that opportunity."

Several moments of uncomfortable silence went by. Saric shot him a look of something like, 'why are you still here'? Kellan caught himself staring, still having trouble recognizing everything in front of him. "I'll fill out my side of the report as well. You're dismissed."

"Sir." 

Kellan took his leave. He left the building, and this district, all the way to the command center.

When he finally arrived home, he collapsed back into bed once again, as dead tired as ever. He closed his eyes and it was happening again. He shouldn't be dwelling on these things. There was no stopping.

The flashes of black and red. In the dream he was someplace else. The space was dark and vague, the walls were all close, and there was nothing all around. He was in some confined chamber, with him. The Helghast stepped backward, pulling Kellan right along with him. He felt that pale form closing in on him. He wouldn't back away. The red glowing eyes. One step, another one- until the other man sat down in a comfortable chair. The red glow was boring into him. In it there was violence, a tension- how was it that this was still haunting him, even now?

In this episode, the Helghast was sitting there, relaxing in the armchair, waiting for him. Like the dream he had before, he was going to do it. He always wanted it so bad. It always played out the same- a Helghast giving it to him hard. This time, even though there were no words, he knew something more. He knew that man's identity as much as he knew his own. Everything was unreal. Kellan helped himself to the man's lap. There were no emotions, but anxiousness- to keep going, to fuck. In his sleep he had a raging boner, like always. As part of the dream, it was poking into the man's stomach. 

Making himself comfortable on the man's lap, he left enough space between them for access to everything important. He stroked Saric's clothed dick, none too quickly, and felt it get hard under him and arranged down one pant leg. He got down on his knees, pulled the man's dick out and sucked to get it wet. His fingers were wet and sticky. He inserted a finger inside his own body. It was not so difficult to relax and get it in. How many times had he put fingers, objects inside of himself, imagining it was Saric's prick. Even his conscious body, in all likelihood was doing the same thing now. The Helghast was right there in the armchair, passively waiting for him. Waiting for him to ride it. He brought the head of Saric's member in line with it, and nudged it in. Slowly, he felt it enter in. He felt pushed, stretched around it. It still physically could not go in all the way. The Helghast silently pushed upward. It was more than he could have ever possibly prepared for. Kellan was going to be torn apart, doing this.

Reeling from having all of it, He brought himself all the way down. He could feel the member lodged inside of him as it swelled with new blood. Kellan wrapped his arms around Saric's shoulders, and buried his head right against Saric's collar. The facepiece, with all its uncomfortable corners, pressed in like that, enough to leave a mark on Kellan's face. He mindlessly thrust his body onto the other man's. He brought it in and out of himself, over and over, polishing Saric using his body. Kellan's own dick brushed up against Saric's torso. Unable to resist, he took it in his own hand and started stroking himself. From being fucked and being able to touch himself, Kellan was getting close. 

As good as this dream was, something slow and intimate, there needed to be more. Something with force. The Helghast pulled Kellan off. Kellan felt like he weighed nothing and was about to float away. He grabbed Kellan's shoulders and roughly turned him around facing the desk, pulling the man prostrate against it. There was a hand steadied on the back of Kellan's neck. He pushed all the way in, and started fucking him however it felt natural. It was already slick inside and penetration was easy. The dream connected to a familiar thing, taking him against a desk like this. The scenery of the dream was always different- be it was Saric's office, or a prison cell- but it was that same feeling. The penetration was dirty and powerful, unprotected, deep in his insides. He could feel every curve of his flesh. Saric's balls hit Kellan's skin as he could now slide in and out. Kellan's insides grasped around, pulling him, milking his dick. With the same urges older than civilization, he grabbed Kellan's hips in either hand and just started slamming into him. 

To what extent did Saric hate him, really? Could he ever know? In real life, Kellan had wondered if his turning coat changed anything at all. It was true that Saric was a sworn enemy of the VSA and despised them for their detonation of Helghan during the SEW. The Vektans were his sworn enemy. He wondered how much Saric associated Kellan with them, now. Saric had his own impressions about Kellan's true fealty to the Helghast. Indeed, initially, the fact that Saric sought him out at all- it was indeed meant to be a vehicle, for revealing some hidden angle on Kellan's part. His intentions started off a bit nobler than now. 

Saric pulled Kellan back, still connected, so that they were both in a standing position and he could see Kellan's body if he looked down over Kellan's front. Kellan was completely hard and it was all he could think of. The Helghast was in it for real now. He tentatively brushed his fingers against Kellan's member. Despite everything that had happened, he had never actually touched it before. Kellan move his hips forward to try and get more. Then, he moved his fingers along it, jerking Kellan off in long, even strokes while fucking him. This time, he was giving Kellan a reacharound. Kellan's dick was already slick with the excess lube and pre-come. The sheer pleasure of it was enough to outweigh any pain from being stretched around Saric. It became too much to bear. 

"I- I can't..."

Kellan felt his whole body seize up. He grasped Saric's hand, interlacing their fingers. How romantic. Saric shoved himself all the way in, and fucked and jerked him through the whole thing. The seed got all over Saric's ungloved hands and the surface below. The man fucked Kellan with abandon, even faster than before. The channel was slick and tight, and he could go as fast as he wanted. It was tightening up now as Kellan had just reached orgasm. He pushed in all the way and started coming. It spilled deep into Kellan's insides, all the way up, saturating him more than could ever occur in nature. It was everywhere. It traveled up his stomach, into his throat and filled his mouth. Anatomically impossible as it was. As he pulled out, the seed started to leak out. Kellan coughed out more of the seed. Even though Saric had already come, he continued to push back into Kellan. More spurts of seed shot out after withdrawing, and landed on the head of his dick. He pushed them right back into Kellan so that they would stay inside him. After a long time, he finally pulled out, but kept his grip on Kellan, embracing him from behind. It was the most vivid one yet. He made no sense of where he was, and yet it didn't matter. He would keep himself locked, like this.

But the black room melted away, a haze that cleared in favor of the bedside window. He noticed an unfortunate sticky spot in his underwear, and the onset of a headache coming on. Get a grip. Kellan rolled over and went back to sleep.

* * *

The news broke hours ago. There was a failed bomb attempt in one of the city buildings. Plenty of rumors about the causes, and details, but no one could confirm anything. But of course, they missed their mark. Only now Drago's anger had finally subsided. Deep in the bowels of Containment City, their new hiding place was located in an old warehouse after Tyran's old facility was compromised and sacked by the New Helghan local police.

Drago demanded of one of the Black Hand accomplices, "What did you find out? What happened to them?"

"We lost them both. One in the hideout, the other missed his target in District 3."

"Fuck!" He kicked some debris on the ground. It narrowly missed the accomplice's head. "That's really unfortunate." Drago said. He took several deep, long breaths, trying to regain his calm. "Fortunately, for now, it's a welcome distraction."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me, do you know the best way to attack District 3?"

"I don't suppose there is any good way." The underling pondered this for a moment. "Since last week, the whole place has been locked down. An ant couldn't sneak into that place."

Drago smiled. "We don't." Strapping on his holster, he said, "You understand, it never _really_ was about the District. We're after the people in it." The other one pondered over this. "We wait. Until they leave."


	3. Chapter 3

Early in the morning, Kellan set out toward the meeting he had, scheduled with the High Commander. This was to be his morning, and then in the afternoon was a combat training session. And so, he was dressed in the usual fatigues and mostly geared. He had already met with Green and Fuller and been briefed. The next phase of the mission would not be for another few days, so he ought to have some downtime at some point after this.

It was the same building as his initial briefing- the one with Green, and with Saric in the boardroom. However, this was pointing toward a different room in the east wing. He went past reception and back into that same elevator as before, alone. Down the hallway, instead of boardrooms now it was well-spaced-out offices, most of which he could not see inside. Of those that he could peer into, they were empty with the lights off. He supposed that these were remote offices for the higher-ups that normally worked elsewhere, or were always out on the field. They were all numbered. 451, 449K. Finally, he found it- 447A. 

Tentatively he knocked at the door.

"Commander?"

There was no answer, no one was inside. Then, he heard a voice nearby.

"Kellan." Saric, in his normal trenchcoat attire, but dressed down somewhat, approached him from down the hallway. It was part of Kellan's life story- he was always more on time than the people he was meeting. In this case, though, the difference wasn't much. "Let's discuss things here." Only now, did he get a chance to glance at the nameplate on the door. There it was, in embossed metal- 'H CDR Anton Saric', with flourishes all around and a small, fancy Triad emblem beside the name. He noticed, compared to the other nameplates, that the emblems looked different. 

Stepping into the office, it was massive compared to the other ones he'd visited, with the far wall entirely windowed, overlooking the rest of the base. Saric powered on the projector. He was silent- Kellan supposed he was pulling up the mission data from the two bombers. And, there it was. Holographs of the explosion site, and what information they could garner from the first of the two.

"Does all of this look correct?"

"Yes. Is that the-?" Kellan squinted, trying to make out one of the images.

"The controls are here." Saric handed the keypad over. Kellan zoomed in on one of them.

"Yeah, here it is. There was the one escaped mover, and the confrontation outside the elevator in your district. The mission was going smoothly up until that point."

"The other one told you about Drago."

"Yeah. Although, it didn't tell me anything new about their goals in Vekta City. What I wanted, was to understand what they are ultimately planning."

Kellan wished he could have seen more, or that he was not intercepted so quickly. Everything plummeted straight through one goose chase to another. By the time all the dust had settled and the mover was caught, their hideout in the city district was already cleared out.

"They believe that New Helghan is a traitor state." Saric said.

"I don't understand whether they want to relocate back on planet Helghan, or something else. It doesn't make any sense to me, how they reconcile all of this with their history. All I know is they are focusing on New Helghan now, rather than the VSA."

"Undoubtedly you will hear this from other places aside from me- the relocation to New Helghan was the difference between surviving, and not. This is the exact issue that the Black Hand do not understand. They are acting contrary to their best interests. They don't recognize which threats are real, and which are not."

"I doubt we can reason with them." Kellan replied. "We can only defeat them."

Saric sounded just the tiniest bit more pleasant. "Surely, you must regret getting caught up in all of this."

"I wouldn't say that." He thought for a moment. "The consequences are what they are. Of what happened when was VSA, and of coming here." 

"Is that really so?"

Kellan frowned, at the uncomfortable topic. He shouldn't go there. But it was the truth. "To be honest- if I regret anything, I do regret losing Sinclair." 

"While Sinclair and myself have never seen eye-to-eye, the past is behind us now. My condolences for your loss." This was said very coldly and frankly. He'd take it. It was no secret how Saric despised everything Sinclair stood for. "Even still, whatever compelled you to leave, and give up all of the VSA's advantages for you?"

"On the Vektan side, I had a lot of things- a functional role, a livelihood- but, no future."

"And you suppose you have a future, here."

"I hope so. I'm betting everything on it."

Somehow, even through the visor, he seemed to narrow his gaze. "What kind of man does that? What are you, really?"

"A soldier, dedicated in service to Chancellor Visari-"

"Enough. Enough of the bullshit nonsense. Don't tell me war-speak. The things you've been rehearsed to say. I want the real answer. Why? Why are you trying to get close to me? You clearly want something. What is it?"

It was something unique, really, to hear Saric use curse words. Saric saw this whole conversation for what it was- a charade, something Kellan knew just as well. Only, he didn't want to do it any more. He has this aching suspicion at the back of his mind that Kellen was still guarding some dangerous secret. The turning coat, in circumstances like these, doesn't just 'happen'. There was always, always an angle. An assassination attempt. VSA espionage. Information theft. Something. 

Kellan was backed into a corner, and would have to respond honestly. This was a huge risk. Was this really happening? He was, literally, going to proposition a superior officer. No matter how you looked at it, it was a serious offense. He risked losing his job, facing imprisonment, or exile. The things that happened in the past didn't make him any less culpable now for this type of behavior. This risked being one very foolish decision. Nothing scared him anymore. This might just be the only opportunity.

"You want to know the truth? What I want is for you to use my body. Like you did before. In the Cell."

The silence was long and tense. 

"In the Cell?"

"Yes." It could only mean one thing.

Saric stared at him. "...Sexually?"

"Yes."

"Like then."

"That was the last part of my capture."

While this wasn't transpiring at all how he expected, Saric kept his calm exterior. He paused, thinking about something. "You do realize, things are different now. When people are in prison, and especially if they don't co-operate- all bets are off. There is no such thing as a 'conflict of interest'. What happens, happens, and nobody is invested in caring about it."

"I'm aware of that."

"Everything is different now. You are a member of our forces. The very thing that you're suggesting, independent of my stance on it, could cause a great deal of trouble. It complicates things." He was being cagey, but Kellan knew what he meant. Even if Saric was immune from most accusations of impropriety, Kellan wasn't. This wasn't something you could just do.

"I fully accept any of the blame or penalties."

"I don't know if you can fully appreciate what they are."

"I could produce something in writing."

"No, that's not necessary..." It was a rare moment to have Saric taken back a little by all this. He paused, and seemed to be deliberating something. Kellan was dying inside, wondering, whether it was an acceptance or rejection. There was no telling how this was going to unfold. He moved his arm to salute, with a 'sir', but Saric cut him off and barked, "Come along this way". Abruptly, he walked out the room without looking back. Kellan had to jog up behind him, and walked along, not quite behind, but not quite at his side either. They departed down the one hallway, then another. This building did not see much use and today, the hallways were all empty. All of this took them inside an unfamiliar room. It looked like a fairly modern type of military office. There were diagrams and historical memorabilia on the walls, the 3D projector table in the middle, and a desk with some other computing materials. Perhaps, this was another one of Saric's acting offices when he was assigned here. 

Kellan glanced around, but didn't ask any questions- he stood at attention. Saric went back to the door and typed in some kind of passcode to the interface mounted at the side of it. He could hear the small noise, of it locking to the outside. Then he wordlessly walked up to Kellan, and grabbed him by the collar of his gear. He looked angry- even angrier than usual. Kellan was yanked forward. 

"Why on earth are you doing this?"

"Sir?"

"This is it. You made it. The VSA were allowed to keep their information. You were allowed to keep your freedom. Is this part of some grand plan of yours, Vektan? Squeeze your way into our forces, use the good impression you left with Visari, then find the best possible opportunity to get close to me, or any of our leadership, with a knife?"

"I'm unarmed. You already know that. Your optical detects metal."

"Is all this some sort of joke, to you?"

"No. It's the truth."

"Tell me why."

"I just-" Kellan struggled to choose words. "I can't stop thinking about it. It's all the time, now. I have flashbacks to it, it's the thing I most vividly remember from back then, and there's no way around it. Nothing works. I keep coming back to it again and again. I jerk off to it sometimes. In spite of everything else, despite all the risks here, I don't care what damage occurs to my mind or body. Crossing the wall all those times has already done enough to me. It isn't any more complicated than that."

"This must have some other explanation." Kellan knew that, if it were only a matter of finding someone else, life would be much simpler. New Helghan had a not-so-well-kept secret of underground network of sex commoditizing and prostitutes. But it really offered nothing to him. 

"It's just that. I'll swear anything you want me to. I'll follow orders. I'll kill your enemies. I don't have anything to prove to you, but if need be, I'll do it anyway. I'll prove myself to the New Helghan enforcement. Or, you can kill me right here and now. I won't resist anymore." 

"Kellan..."

Kellan inhaled sharply, wondering if the man was going to strike him or what. He knew firsthand, Saric had a nasty right hook. This could unfold with any number of bad endings. In a way, he was here on his own merits, and determination to escape from the VSA. In a way, it was sheer luck. But, no. Most of all, he was here on Visari's and New Helghan's good graces. Everything was contingent on him following the rules and keeping a low profile. Not propositioning superiors. The benefits here could all just as quickly be taken away. Kellan's decision to drop all this on the High Commander of Helghast Security may well be a pretty bad one, independently of anything that happened before. 

Saric shoved Kellan to the floor. In normal circumstances, this would be nothing on Kellan in a fight, but he supressed his reflex to fight back. As he was still wearing his assault-sniper gear, even though he didn't struggle, it was clunky on the way down and made a lot of noise. Kellan's pulse raced. Every noise seemed louder. This huge adrenaline rush. He got right back up, and faced the Helghast squarely. 

"This is what you want, is it?" Saric backhanded Kellan across the face. Those red, piercing eyes peered into his own. His leather glove made full contact. The hit stung, and yet the pain frustrated him and aroused him even more. No, it wasn't anything close to what Saric was really capable of- just something purely to make a point. In all this, Saric was expecting some retaliatory violence. But it was the law of the universe- it took two to make a fight. Now, it was as if Saric was contemplating doing worse to Kellan, but thinking better of it. 

If Kellan were in a different frame of mind, he might have returned the hit. Instead, he stepped right up to Saric, standing uncomfortably close. He grabbed his shoulders and pulled him near, holding the commanding officer in what looked like an embrace. It was hard to get real proximity through all Kellan's gear and armor separating them. Still, Kellan held his upper body against Saric's, his hands grasping the thick trenchcoat near where Saric's shoulderblades should be- it was hard to tell where, exactly, through the thick leather. He leaned into the spot to the left of Saric's collar. 

The Helghast Commander completely froze up. His hands stayed down, indifferently, at his sides, letting Kellan hold himself against him like this. While the moments seemed to slip by. He didn't push away, but didn't reciprocate, either. To have the common boundaries of propriety crossed by a subordinate, onto him, like this- it was really, really unheard of. Normally, this would be a beating to truly remember. There was just nothing else to say. Kellan ran his hands down the Helghast's back, feeling the smooth texture of the thick leather trenchcoat. 

He was already crossing the line so hard, nothing seemed to matter. Tentatively, Kellan pressed his lips against Saric's ear. Saric didn't react at all. The kiss. There was no other like it. It was dry, soft and nothing aggressive. The Helghast's skin felt cold and smooth. Encouraged, he kissed all along the side of his bald head. He pressed kisses along Saric's pale neck and ear, the only places left uncovered from the facepiece. Kellen then started pushing his body against Saric's, putting his whole self into it. He claimed parts of Saric's pale skin with his mouth, grasping at him in desperation.

Somehow it was hard for the Helghast to stay angry, like this. Slowly, he was being convinced that Kellan might be telling the truth. He said nothing. His fists, tightly-clenched, started to loosen. Inwardly, he was second-guessing what he was getting himself into with the prisoner-turned-subordinate. Kellan continued to kiss Saric's neck and ear, going for any part that the breathing apparatus didn't cover. Sure, he would even kiss the mask itself. It felt warm and leathery to the touch, and Saric's breath was still emitted through it. There was something of an intimacy about it all. Kellan ran his hands up and down Saric's back, and held his body flush.

Finally, Saric had enough. He snapped, roughly pushing Kellan away, with a quick shove to his collar. He just stared, breathing heavy. Kellan's eyes met the red, glowing facepiece. Kellan wasn't going to go back, or try and explain himself. The ball was in Saric's court to decide whether Kellan was ultimately lying. His optical could tell him a lot of things. They both knew it couldn't tell him that. He looked into the soldier's eyes, trying to decipher him. Saric could just as well put a stop to this now. 

Perhaps, things would be simpler that way. Perhaps that would be better for both of them. It would be an easier decision if Saric didn't already know Kellan's most intimate details- the insides of his body. Just maybe, Kellan was telling the truth. Saric was fired up with Kellan doing all of that to him. He could try and suppress it, but there was no way any red-blooded man could do that. He definitely felt that same thing- the last time he felt it, it was in the Cell. The single-minded desire, the aggression, tangled up with the intent to force Kellan into co-operation. It was difficult, now, to come to grips with the fact that Kellan may not be an enemy. 

And in that moment, he decided. He could do it again. He didn't trust Kellan. It was a risk. He wanted to hold Kellan down and take him, until the Vektan couldn't walk straight anymore. Until he got more than what he asked for. Until could not think of betraying them.

There were so many risks involved with so much as speaking to Kellan like this. There was nothing left that they ought to have to do with one another. They should not even be crossing paths like this. If Saric had his way, they would have had their initial conversation, then committed Kellan back to a pre-existing SI unit far, far away. Maybe somewhere further from the capital. Maybe on Gyre. He would do his job, superb as always, help their forces, and make Visari happy. Even with Saric's position, he didn't have final say over these kinds of matters. 

"Do you think you can just come here, and initiate every kind of indecency with me?"

If there was any blame here, it was going to be squarely on him, not Saric. Was there ever a better way to commence his new life as a Helghast operative, than to be written up for indecent behavior? Sexually assaulting a superior official? Great idea. There were people who got punished for being fifteen minutes late to a briefing, or having a drink on the job. They would have his head separated from his shoulders faster than he could blink. It's been fun. He knew well enough what the consequences were. If he had any sense whatsoever, he would back out now. It was something he needed to have so badly. Fuck it, nothing else mattered. 

The Helghast stood there, leaning back against the desk behind him, as he spoke. The red eyes conveyed nothing. No feeling, no particular desire. That same blankness, a face for who-could-tell-what-was-underneath. Actually, Kellan knew.

Kellan came right up to him, and grabbed his whole body. He placed one had on Saric's neck, the other on the official's hip. He felt the intricate texture of the thick belt, on the other side from the holster. He looked down. There was, indeed, a holstered firearm there. The very same Judaz as before. Must wear it all the time. Kellan leaned in, and closed the distance fully, pulling their bodies flush. He could hear the man's breath through the emitter. It was calm and even. Even being abruptly grabbed and embraced like this, the Helghast was stone-cold, not reacting at all. If Kellan didn't know better, he would think it was a trap. He could not help himself. He forcefully kissed the Helghast's neck, while pressing their bodies together. 

But what started as a little bit tentative and clean, quickly took a turn for something less innocent. There was just no stopping. In a bold move, he put his hand right on Saric's crotch, stroking it through the fabric. He ran his hand along the insides of Saric's thighs, then brought his attention back where it was. Saric did have a game-face if anyone. He kept his hands at his sides, and let Kellan wet-kiss the side of his head while groping him. It would have been enough to get anyone a little hot and bothered, if they still had a pulse.

Saric could be the coldest thing around when he wanted to. Kellan grabbed the man's hips, in either hand, and pressed his own crotch against Saric along with the rest of his body. It was unreal. The Helghast Commander, right here, under his grasp. Kellan's heart was racing. He was easily getting off on this. He needed to have more. The friction between all of the fabric and body armor just wasn't cutting it. He wanted to get more, even if it was just through-the-clothes. He ran his fingers up and down where the length was, then used his whole palm. It was enough so he could definitely feel it, but gentle enough not to bring about any roughness against the thick denim-like material. The Vektan kept touching it softly. He was in no particular hurry, kissing him with the intimacy of someone in love. Knowing what was underneath- that same member that was once penetrating Kellan, punishing him as an enemy. He could tease Saric out of this. As long as it took. 

Something switched in Saric's mind and body. He shifted his weight and inhaled sharply. Kellan felt the member twtich under his palm, even through the clothes, and turned into a visible bulge. The muffled breathing Kellan heard through the facepiece started to pick up. Saric's body tensed up and he pressed himself into Kellan. He grabbed Kellan roughly at his biceps. Kellan could clearly feel what was under his fingers now. The member was arranged slightly to the side, straining against the thick material. He could run his fingers along the head, then continue on down the length, and see how much of that he could take before he would do something- anything- to Kellan. It was happening now. He carefully took off both his plated gloves and discarded them on the table beside them. Saric, needing to cool down, took off his thick leather trenchcoat. Kellan, tangled up in him, helped to take it off, fold it and set it aside. He reached up Saric's shoulders and could feel the man's biceps far more easily without the huge trenchcoat in the way. He was pretty built. Kellan was too caught up in the moment to notice it before. Then, Saric finally reached up, and cupped the side of Kellan's head with his bare hand while Kellan continued to kiss him with the same tenderness. He wrapped an arm around Kellan's waist, and the other hand held Kellan close by the back of his head. 

The moments passed by. They stayed in a locked embrace. The Vektan knew exactly what he was doing. And yet, could hardly believe any of this was real. This, it belonged in some kind of poster art exhibition for Helghast-Vektan diversity. That aspect of it alone was enough of a taboo. That wasn't even the half of it.

And still, he just wanted more. He was prepared to let Saric do anything to him. This was coming from someone who knew just what the man's brutal side was like. Who knows if he could leave this place in one piece. He took one of Saric's pale fingers, and put it in his mouth. He worked his tongue around it and sucked it, pushing another finger in, enough nearly to choke him. Saric inhaled sharply, then caught his breath, withdrew his fingers, but brushed up Kellan's lips with his thumb. Kellan gazed directly into Saric's visor, and grabbed the buckle of the other man's insignia belt. 

"Tell me. What are you trying to do?"

Kellan silently did what he was planning on doing. He unbuckled Saric's belt while getting down on his knees. While he undid the fly, Saric put his hand on Kellan's shoulder, almost as if to push him away, but he stopped and just let him. He pulled Saric's half-erect member out. He had never seen it up close before. It was something perfect. Kellan left wet kisses all the way up the side, worked his tongue over the head, and rubbed it against the side of his face, worshiping every part of it. Saric let out a long, muffled sigh. How long it had been, since he got this kind of treatment. His distrust for Kellan was quickly dissipating under the simple haze of arousal. Kellan sucked on one of his balls, then took as much of the shaft as he could in his mouth. The Vektan nearly choked himself. He salivated all over the man's dick and sucked at it, working his tongue all over it. Saric thought he could keep full control over the situation, and keep things appropriate. He thought that he subjected Kellan to the same things as every other Vektan defector- enough scrutiny, time and patience- then the truth would reveal itself. He would be the one to finally out Kellan as a spy. If Kellan was, this was some trick up his sleeve. The Helghast kept his grip on Kellan's shoulder while the lips and tongue slid over him, again and again. Under the visor, it was something no one could see- he half-closed his eyes. Kellan was exceedingly good at this. Outside, there was the faint din of a ship landing. Then, another one taking off. Time went by. Through all of this, oblivious to anything else, Kellan kept sucking at him and showed no signs of stopping. It was all Saric could do to keep from grabbing the man and fucking his face. He started actually trembling. At this rate, it would be enough to get him all the way off. 

This shouldn't even be happening. But it was. Kellan deliberately went against the rules. Saric went back on his clean intentions. None of it mattered any more.

"That's enough." He pushed Kellan off of his dick. It was still dripping down on the floor and on Kellan's mouth. Disappointed for being pushed off, Kellan wiped it away with the back of his hand. Saric roughly grabbed the collar of Kellan's fatigues, and hauled him up to a standing position. He dragged Kellan to the desk. While they were both face to face, in one abrupt motion, he unzipped Kellan's uniform shirt straight open. He pulled himself out of the Helghast-insignia sleeves that stayed limp at his sides, and pulled his own shirt off over his head. Then he unzipped his own fly and pulled it out. He didn't know what the Helghast was going to do. He held Saric's shoulders, putting himself at the other's mercy. Saric reached down with his bare hand and stroked along his own wet dick, only a few times, so that his hand was wet with spit and pre-come. It was so hot, the Vektan almost could just get off on that then and there. Then he reached over and touched Kellan. It occurred to Kellan, that Saric never really touched him before, like that. He never jerked him off. It was happening now. The Helghast stroked him, long and wet and slow, just how he liked it. If anything it was consistent with how it was before. When the Helghast fucked someone he liked to go really slow and show them a good time.

What if there was no angle. Maybe Kellan really wanted this from him, and this alone. It certainly felt that way, now. Saric then pushed their members together and started jerking them off at the same time. The spit and pre-come was slick over both of them and it was a fight to see who could last. 

The labored breathing was obvious through the voice filter. It made it obvious how much Saric was getting off on this. It was a wonder how the Helghast could keep that whole facepiece on, through all of this. He had it before, too. Kellan supposed it was better than the alternative- having to take a time out for some weird breathing condition. He wondered, sometimes, how all of the Helghast dealt with these medical problems. But then again, they must have a way, because there were a lot of Helghast populating the world. 

Kellan's hands gripped Saric's waist and shoulder, pressing his body against the Commander's, in attempt to get as much as possible. He thought he was going to get bent over, and fucked, or just slapped around- he never saw this happening. It was hotter than he ever could have imagined. In no time both of them were sweating and it was hard to keep standing. 

Saric pulled him to one side, pants barely staying on, and pinned him up against the wall. Then he kept stroking the both of them, over and over. Kellan felt weak in the knees and unable to think. He was enjoying the ride- he felt up Saric's balls and kept his hand there. It was unbelievable. This couldn't be happening. He had trouble regaining even enough composure to say that he was close. He was going to come all over Saric's dick, and he wanted to watch Saric come all over his. He swore bitterly, his whole body tensing up. 

In a flash of clarity, he leaned in, his body almost slack, and pressed his forehead against Saric's, even through the visor. In the moment, he looked into Saric's eyes. Even through the red, he could see them. He was sure of it. Involuntarily, he thrust his body up against it, riding it out. Saric slowed down jerking him off, as the seed was leaving his body. He ejaculated all over Saric's hand and both of their dicks. It looked really obscene, and yet it wasn't over. The seed acted as lube for Saric to keep jerking them off and the Vektan still playing with Saric's balls. It felt smooth and perfect. There was so much it dripped onto the floor below and neither of them cared. It was too much. Saric's eyebrows screwed up into something angry and his hands started shaking. He picked up the pace until it was almost too fast for Kellan to handle. Then he seized up. He ejaculated onto Kellan's spent dick- there was so much force, some of it missed and hit Kellan's body. They stayed like that, with their members pressed together, slick with each other's seed. They clung together, breathing heavily, regaining composure. Neither moved from that spot for the longest time. It was a strange game where neither of them could describe what that really was. Something like it happened before. Only, this wasn't the Cell. 

It was different.

And of course it was the same for the Vektan. It was something he knew was dangerous, but he couldn't pry himself away. 

* * *

"Do you know what it is?"

The morning air was crisp and the day was clear. Things were a little bit quieter than they used to be. The altercation with the two Black Hand members appeared to have staved the group off, for a time. Under a large central pavilion outdoors, Kellan met Green near the target practice range at the military center. This time was normally spent reporting and briefing for their next move. "There is some event that everyone keeps talking about."

"Oh, of course. It's scheduled for tomorrow. Did you check the date?"

"I don't see what's special about it."

"Ah, I don't suppose that means anything to you. Tomorrow will mark the thirtieth anniversary of the official establishment of New Helghan."

"Really?" Kellan went over it in his head. It seemed a little off.

"Of course, there were Helghast here before that. The relocation off of Helghan took time- it wasn't an instantaneous thing. Actually, if you looked hard enough, you could find Helghast here before that. Even years and years before, ever since the colonization of the planet. But, there is a specific, official date marking the centralization of power and establishment of the state government. And the unification of the Helghast here. That's the date we observe, for these purposes."

"I see."

"There's going to be a large celebration, at least, for all the upper administration. They booked out the whole of Newsuljeva Hall." That was yet another massive complex in one of the government districts, as he understood it. "Rumor has it, the chancellor herself will be there."

"Should be quite something." So that's what that was. He recalled passing by that building and seeing all sorts of signs and decorations, mid-installation.

"Do you want to go?"

"What?! I couldn't possibly."

"Not as a guest, per se. We actually need some enforcement there in case there is trouble. Gives everyone some piece of mind. Although, I doubt there will be anything too worthy of attention. I was actually lined up to go, myself. I did it last year. But I figured I'd offer it to you."

He was intrigued by the idea, and a part of him wanted to see what these occasions were like, from the inside. Coming in from the Vektan side, it was an entire other universe. He was a little concerned about taking the spot away from someone for whom it would be more appropriate. It didn't seem to matter very much. "In that case, sure."

* * *

Boxes upon boxes, all of them unsuspecting. The masked man stacked them, one on top of another, over top small wheeled devices on the platform overlooking the cargo bay. From the labeling on the outside, they appeared to be shipping containers for old vehicular parts. And yet, they were sealed shut haphazardly with tape and excess wires jutted out the sides. 

The schematics on the table described everything to the letter. None of their materials were up to the grade of Visari Corporation's or Stahl's newest make- most of it was what they could salvage from old SEW remnants or junkyards. Yet, it was enough. The wasted chemicals and spent artillery, the rejected hardware from the Cold War- anything and everything they could recover, were Frankenstein-ed together into one explosive promise of carnage and Visari's deposition.

They had only just finished the video footage. After everything was completed, the would air it on every channel available. It told a story of their zeal, their ideals, their struggles in spite of the odds, their new manifesto, and their establishment of the new, superior nation. One that would not bend to the whims of the enemy. Drago himself gave them the signal to move them out.

All according to plan.

* * *

The flags and emblems stretched out as far as the eye could see. Kellan entered the hall, showed the doorkeeper his 'military attendance' identification card, and immediately felt out of place. You could count on the politicians and military state leaders on New Helghan to celebrate properly. It was the single biggest concentration of money he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked, were all of New Helghan's most powerful senators, governors and corporate leaders. Beautiful chandeliers, seat covers, fine china, everything had the look of a lifestyle that he never took part in. The centerpieces were a flower arrangement plated in gold, inside of an ornament in a very stylized shape of a hand. On one wall was a large flag pixel screen rotating a slideshow of inspirational images- of Autarch Visari superimposed with inspirational quotes, and various buildings and paintings of landmarks around New Helghan. The tables were arrayed quite far, if Kellan had to guess, this place contained several hundred people. At the very front was a stage with a massive Triad flag.

On the one hand it seemed excessive. On the other hand, this was not some birthday party. It was a celebration of the nation's history and military accomplishments, and obviously, its sovereignty. A particularly special anniversary, at that. And so it was no wonder he felt out of place.

He immediately went for the sidelines and went to keep watch from the spot to which he was assigned. While he didn't look it, he was well-equipped for dealing with any situation that should arise. There were a couple concealed handguns inside his suit jacket, concealed explosives, a knife, and then his earpiece for talking to Green. All underneath the fashionable suit and tie they gave him. It was the type of thing he wouldn't normally bother wearing, but they wanted him in something that looked appropriate to the occasion, and wouldn't intimidate the guests with the appearance of heavily armed military guards.

Looking around, further toward the front, he saw one eight-person table that looked different from the others. There was a 'reserved' sign and name placards at each seat. This was, as he knew it, the section of tables for VIP guests. Green had already given him the general layout of the ceremony and seating arrangement so he would know what to expect. Here there would be Saric, Senator Manter, a reasonably popular Party member, Paul Alsace, the acting CEO of Stahl arms. He was the man who took over since Stahl himself was no longer. There were a few others with whom Kellan was less familiar.

More and more of the guests started coming in, chatting in small groups hovering around their seats. Finally, the lights dimmed once, signalling everyone to take their seats. Then the soft background music stopped, and everyone was silent. Spotlights showed up on the stage, and the speaker came out to address everyone. The speaker was a Helghast woman in an elegant evening gown. He recognized her as some sort of government official.

"I'd like to start things off by thanking everyone for taking the time to join us today. Subjects of New Helghan. This is a day of celebration. Of remembrance. Of the optimism we share, for..." 

Kellan glanced down at his COM watch. No messages. No alerts from Green. Everything was proceeding as normal. If things were more ideal, he would be able to enjoy the festivities like the rest of the people here. He wondered if there was any chance of there being other Vektans here. He eyed the crowd, the stage, the corners of the room.

"...And the great bravery shown by these men and women. Duty. Obedience. Loyalty. What do they mean, to each one of us? The pillars of our nation, standing strong..."

A few stragglers came in and took their seats at the back, late, while the others stayed over at the sides so to not disrupt anyone. A faint glow caught his eye. There was a woman video-recording the speech on a portable computer. A couple others took photographs. A couple nearby him were whispering to one another, until someone shushed them. Kellan picked out where he expected the military tables to be, in the off chance he might see Fuller, but no dice.

"This is our commitment to the future. To safeguard our rights, and to take action in one heart and mind. To, in solidarity, sue for the prosperity of our sovereign nation. Let us take this day to celebrate, and look forward. And in..."

Something caught Kellan's eye. It was up toward the ceiling. He wasn't able to see it before, with this place fully illuminated. Now that the lights were dim, he could see a faint, blinking glow. It wasn't even near the lighting system for the stage. He read up on the structural layout of this building before. There shouldn't even be much of anything there. Maybe, he was being paranoid.

"... This is our promise, to New Helghan, to our great leaders, and to one another." She paused. Finally, by this part of the speech, everyone was silent, some a little bit moved by the opening remarks. "Thank you." There was a round of applause and more photos. Now that there was a break, the remainder of the people who had yet to be seated came in.

He couldn't take it anymore. Kellan smoothly left the auditorium through one of the small doors and pulled off into one of the hallways. There was no one else here. He spoke into the COM.

"I-5 to Lima."

"Enjoying the party?"

"Ah, maybe. Can you tell me, what are the contents of section 4, east of this building? Can you look it up?"

"One second." There was a pause. Kellan stared blankly through the glass of the door, enumerating the possibilities in his head. "Should be empty. It's a structural component, and inaccessible."

His eyes shot open. "Really!"

"Why?"

"Let me call you back, please." It would keep eating at him until he knew for sure. He hurriedly went to the other end of the hall, and followed a spiral staircase up. On and on, it went up two stories. It was interesting how lavish everything was, even here, when it had no part in the ceremony and most likely no one would see it. He headed down one hallway, which looked less nicely furnished and more functional. Then into the closest maintenance closet, closing in on what matched the site on the auditorium ceiling.

And there it was. The wall was smashed open, discarded tools and fragments of the wall's structure lay all around. It was a huge mess, and looked like some sort of accident. Kellan bent down and looked at some of the remains. There was no way they'd let this space be in this kind of condition, for long. It must have happened recently. There was something very wrong here.

Switching to the flashlight on his watch, he looked into the hole in the wall, what was little more than a crawlspace. There was enough room for a person to pass through it, possibly, if they were to duck down. 

"Lima. There's some kind of tampering. It's in the maintenance area leading up to that section I mentioned." Kellan ducked down and was able to fit through the channel in the wall. "I'm taking a look." This seemed to be the space between rooms overlooking the auditorium. There were some tresses and support pillars up above, on which he nearly hit his head. In the distance, he could see it. That green glow, flashing. Coming up closer, the glow was being emitted off of a small control panel. Crude wires connected the control panel to large reams of storage containers, stacked on top of one another. The containers housed some kind of electronic mechanism, and were assembled poorly. 

It dawned on him, what this was. Explosives.

Down below, it might have been possible to hear the footsteps in the chamber, but everything was in full swing. Everyone started socializing during the breaks in between speeches.

"Some champagne, Commander?"

"Oh, no. I really shouldn't." 

Kellan came up closer to the device. There must be a way to disengage it. It was a crude construction, and they were all daisy-chained to one detonator. If he were to disconnect that one, somehow, it might be enough. He was about to phone it home, simultaneously while going to work on the device. 

There was an powerful impact, square at his head, then he found himself thrown to the ground. He recognized those masks, and that streetwear with the projectors. Coming out of cloaked hiding, the attacker was Black Hand. 

He wrestled the masked operative down, trying to get the upper hand, but it was tough. He was not fully armed and that initial strike left him winded. He wondered why the operative didn't just shoot him. There was more than enough opportunity. No. The bullet-fire would attract attention. Even with a silencer, the noise would be enough to sound through the whole auditorium and cause everyone to flee. Their plan was all making sense now, and it was all too perfect. All the same, he had to stop it from happening.

Kellan socked the operative in the face over, and over, but the mask shielded the blow. Mid-hold like this, it was too difficult to get his gun. The Black Hand agent pulled out a knife. He tried to stab Kellan, but was intercepted with the knife. Kellan deadlocked with him for control of it, guiding it away from his vitals. The operative was strong enough, and held Kellan in a difficult position. It was enough to protect him from the worst of the knife, but right after the deadlock let go and Kellan seemed to have control, it grazed along near his upper arm. The soldier took the butt of the knife and jammed it into the man's solar plexus. He seized up and Kellan took the opportunity to flip them over. 

The mask was jarred upward in the skirmish, and Kellan held the knife to the man's unprotected throat. "Surrender now. You're going to disarm this device."

The ceremony was going according to schedule, and the committee chair was listing out all the government's new priorities and ambitions. "Very informative words from our State Messaging committee chair. Well said. Right on target." 

The Black Hand operative made no signs of surrender. "Is that what you want? To murder civilians of your own nation?"

"Y-you don't understand, but you will."

"You're going to help me disarm this thing." 

"Like hell-" It really was no use reasoning with someone like this. The agent came at him once more, except Kellan managed to snatch the knife from out of the man's hand. The operative was left out of options except to try and kill Kellan with his bare hands. He grabbed hold of Kellan's neck, and squeezed, and squeezed. Too much longer, and it might have been enough to kill him. But this left Kellan with his hands free. He took a small tranquilizer from his pocket, and stabbed the man right in the wrist. He was so wrapped up in what he was doing, it didn't even occur to him until it was too late. Soon enough, the grip loosened, and the agent collapsed down. Kellan threw the limp body off of him.

There was simply no time to do anything else- he had to try and disarm the device without outside help. Wire after wire, he traced it back to the central switch controlling the detonator. Swiftly, he cut it with the knife. Fortunately, as fearsome a weapon as it was, it was not very sophisticated. The humming device ground to a halt, and stayed silent; the green glow was snuffed out. 

Kellan pulled out a concealed assault rifle and aimed it defensively at the Black Hand agent while using his COM, watching for any sudden movements. "Lima, there's a lot going on here, right now. Attempt to compromise on the safety of this building. Black Hand. I intercepted him and knocked him out."

"Kellan? Are you still in there?" A voice on the other end of the walkway. 

"Fuller!" The Helghast came in the same way Kellan did. "I got a distress call from Green. Looks like I missed everything."

"Yeah, thankfully." Fuller looked over the unconscious body. "Looks like he's out. There are a couple guys outside, we're going to take him in." Fuller helped Kellan drag the man out of the channel, back out of the maintenance room. There they met with two others, members of the Helghast local police, who took him away for questioning. All of this was planned ever so carefully, he had to hand it to them. They went out through the very back of the building, and the vehicles were all there, so none of this so much as disrupted the ceremony down below. He wondered how many attempts like these have happened before. It was no coincidence that he was assigned here, in the first place.

Everything carried on as normal, except Kellan looked like a mess. He was still running on adrenaline. While it was a questionable idea, he still thought that he might see the rest of the ceremony. Green gave him the okay to return back downstairs, because Fuller and the others would take it from here.

When Kellan was on his way back, he was worried about sticking out like a sore thumb. He just emerged from a knife fight and it showed. There were a few tears in the arms of his suit, scrapes everywhere, and visible blood on his knee. He looked in a mirror nearby and tried his best to straighten himself out. He holstered the assault rifle and kept it zipped up at his side. Thankfully, inside the large auditorium, the lights were dim and everyone was too otherwise distracted to pay too much attention to his particulars.

He came in at an opportune moment. The speaker finished with the long list of acknowledgements. His voice changed in anticipation. "Now, what so many of you have been waiting for! A word from High Commander Saric." 

The soldier tried to get closer to the front, without blocking anyone's view. There was some empty space off to the side. He got a full view of the VIP table. He saw Saric, the senator, and the others.

Saric looked around at his other table-mates with a bit of abruptness. Apparently his cue had come on early. He adjusted his facepiece and went up to the front. As he made his way up there, the speaker continued. "On behalf of myself and the rest of VC, we're ever so grateful for the opportunity to have you with us today." The podium was adorned with a simple, yet modern microphone with some Helghan script, and of course the fabric Triad runner down the front. These affairs were a lot different on the Vektan side. There, the rallies like this were steered by the numerous commercial news stations and Vekta Daily. Everything prefixed with 'and now, a word from our sponsors'. In New Helghan, these events were funded by the state. And they were only of interest to the state. So they were less commercially-oriented and instead, delivered as a strict, uncontestable political message.

"Thank you, Mr. Speaker." Saric said, while re-adjusting the microphone for his height, for he was a bit taller than the other man. There was some shuffling around during the VC representative's speech. Now, in the hall, you could hear a pin drop. Kellan leaned back against the wall.

"Thirty years ago, this planet- Vekta- was a very different place. The planet Helghan was a different place. Our people, our political climate, the place which we call home- have seen a great deal of trials, and change." While the war was thirty years ago, its effects were fresh in many people's minds. "Our journey is ongoing, and it has been anything but an even path. We experienced betrayal. We experienced war. We sacrificed our livelihood. We experienced loss. We were subjugated, relegated to a planet which was hostile. And some thought, with reason, that it would be a dead end, of sorts. Some thought that- and, initially, I had this thought, too- that New Helghan would be a dead end to that long, long, journey. A place for Helghan's legacy to be quietly marched out, and disappear. And that we would be silenced, forever." While he wouldn't say it, directly, this was a careful euphemism for Helghan facing total annihilation in the war. Now, they had the luxury of thinking about it in abstract, rhetorical terms. At one time, it was a very real possibility.

"Did Vektan power bring forth that silence? Did the destruction following the SEW? Did systematic persecution? Did relocation? To ask another question: did it change our understanding of history? Let me reiterate, we understand what our history is, and what it is not. Our history of overcoming these obstacles is _not_ a testament to Vektan power. It _is_ a testament to our diligence. Our endurance. Our integrity. Our fortitude, and our unstoppable courage."

There was a tremendous rousing of cheers and applause, along with some teary eyes and tissues in the audience. It was similar to the speech from the parade, but much shorter and simpler. Saric gave the podium back to the VC speaker.

"On behalf of Visari Corporation, we thank you, High Commander Saric for the opportunity to hear from you today. Really an inspiration." The speaker was interrupted by the continued shouts and cheers. "On behalf of us all at VC, our friends and supporters, and our leadership here in New Helghan, we must extend our deepest gratitude to all of you, and all of New Helghan. For your loyalty, for your courage, your determination, your support, and for making this day possible." Another round of applause. Finally, Saric left the stage, and the speaker gave some more closing remarks.

The lights were dim and there was so much going on, no one paid Kellan any mind. The dinner and speeches part of the ceremony was now over.

Most people had left their tables to enjoy the other festivities. Some of the Helghast with facepieces put them back on. Servers whizzed by him with drink orders. There was a small orchestra band playing as entertainment, away from the tables. Many Helghast officials, mostly men, were couple-dancing with their wives. Elsewhere, Helghast aristocracy stood around in groups chatting and laughing. He looked down. The news came in from Fuller on his COM. Supposed now was as good a time as any. He scanned around- finally, he located Saric at one of the tables in the back. It was a different VIP table than the one he started at, talking with Manter. The remnants of dinner everywhere were cleared, leaving only stray napkins and some abandoned drinks. The other seats had vacated, leaving only the two Helghast at one side. He pulled out the seat beside Saric, and plopped right down. Immediately they both looked over. He felt like a stampede of elephants, charging through the wall straight into their pleasant night out. Vektan elephants. 

"Why, hello. Is this one of our new SE?" Surprisingly, Manter didn't appear too annoyed.

"This is Lucas Kellan, our top SE operative. Kellan, Senator Manter."

"'Apologize for interrupting." said Kellan.

"Oh, no need at all! Looks like you..." Manter scanned Kellan, and saw the tears in his clothing, the blood, the urgency with which Kellan came over, and sensed something quite serious was at hand. As a prominent political figure, whatever it was, it was something with which he wanted absolutely no involvement. "Ah, I had best be going, anyhow. My wife doesn't like losing me. Please, if you'll excuse me." Manter hurriedly left. 

"What is this about?"

Kellan pulled the chair up close, and spoke in a quiet voice. "Drago is dead."

"What?"

"He was planning an attack on this very building. It was the detonation of explosives, above this room. I intercepted him, and there was a physical altercation. I knocked him out, and Fuller with a couple others took hold of him and tried to bring him back to the station."

Saric was silent.

"On the way to the station, Drago ingested a poison pill, the same manner of thing that was given to the other Black Hand operative. It was just confirmed."

Saric sighed, none too perplexed by the news, just accepting it as a matter of fact. "That is unfortunate."

"I would have wished we caught him alive. In any case, Fuller and the team cleared out the remnants of the weapon. Their whole effort should be put to rest, now."

"Never a dull moment, is there." Even though he was wearing the mask once again, Kellan could tell Saric was none too perplexed by any of this. This could have gone any number of ways. He thought he might face punishment for not somehow ensuring Drago gave them the information they needed. It was all out of his hands, now. If anything, Saric seemed- at least, marginally- pleased with what Kellan did. "There's blood on your suit."

"I got scraped up a little. It should be all right, though."

"You don't really fit the part for HGH enforcement, looking like that."

"Oh, no?"

"You look like James Bond with an assault rifle."

Kellan didn't really know who James Bond was, but he'd take it.

Someone came up behind them. It was Alsace, the CEO of Stahl Arms. Alsace was recognizable as blond gentlemen with thin hair, older but not quite greyed yet. They had wanted to choose someone with a bit more life in him, so to really be a long-term replacement for the former CEO. 

"Commander Saric. Would this be a bad time to run some ideas past you? While we're both here." Kellan hastily excused himself, knowing that he shouldn't really be here anyway. They went on to discuss some kind of innovation in bullet-resistant gloves. Alsace was very fond of hearing himself talk, and so this showed no signs of stopping.

Kellan went on to another table, knowing he should stick around until the end but really having little else to do. He thought of having a drink, but he should stay sober in case anything happened. He switched on his COM and looked up Fuller and Green. Both congratulated him on a job well done. It was good, he supposed. He felt ill at ease, somehow, and regretted agreeing to come here. A couple more hours of this and he could leave.

The evening stretched on into the night. The ceremony showed some signs of winding down. Kellan knew absolutely no one here. Despite being technically off-duty, he supposed he should stay around and make sure nothing was amiss. One of the superiors of the Vektan from State Operations that Green mentioned came up and introduced himself, and he and Kellan chatted for a bit. He left to get another drink. Kellan played with his COM watch. He heard the continued playing of music, and voices. He heard the voices of Saric and Alsace, off into the background. It quieted right down and melted into the fuzz of everything else.

Finally there was applause as the musicians finished their set, and went to begin a new one.

Something caught the corner of his eye. It was Commander Saric. The Helghast was back at the table, beside him, minus Alsace this time. 

He reached down at Kellan, as if he was about to help the man up. It was really something strange. Kellan glanced around, bewildered and unable to make any sense of it. 

"Would you care to dance?"

The lights. The outstretched hand. It was all too ridiculous. 

He didn't take any time to think about it, or try and internalize what exactly was happening. Wordlessly he took the white-gloved hand, and he was helped up to his feet. Saric led him over to a spare space on the floor further away from the tables. There was some space between them and the other couples. He tentatively held Saric's hand with one hand, and his waist with another. Saric held Kellan's shoulder. This was officially the most ridiculous thing he'd ever done, and that was saying a lot. After everything that happened, he didn't know what to make of this. Everything that happened between them already, was simple and mostly violent. He gazed back into the red facepiece eyes as they kept locked with his. 

He was pulled into a waltz that slowed down, from grand and celebratory, to something a bit sweet and romantic. It was all Kellan could do, not to step on the other's feet. He wanted to get closer together. There was nothing at all dirty or delusional about it anymore. 

It was more than a little scandalous- a well-known, top commanding officer horsing around with a regular operative. A Vektan, no less. It was one of those things that could stir up rumors with people further down the chain if it got out. Still, this wasn't Vekta or Earth. While New Helghan was modernizing, the press was fairly locked down. Kellan by himself, sure. No one was about to smear a high-ranking Helghast in military or politics if they wanted their jobs. The room was dim and there were many other people partaking, so it didn't attract much attention now. 

He thought about everything that changed since he arrived here in New Helghan. He knew firsthand the power of a man acting solely out of desperation, with nothing left to lose. Now, the desperation was gone, but he still knew that power. He had it. He could do anything, really.

Maybe, he himself could be that person. The world swirled around him as he and the Helghast were pulled close, and the music lulled him away into someplace else. He could stay with the Helghast. If they had their way, they would have uncontested control over New Helghan- no- Gyre, the Old World, and all of Vekta. Crazy as it was, the conflict here could just mark the very start of it. It might be happening already. Kellan could never be in the business of speculating these types of things. 

Somehow it didn't even trouble him anymore. In truth, he didn't want to help them take over the whole world. He didn't want to go out and kill a million people, or save a million people. Things had changed since his time in the VSA and he didn't even want to, now. What he did want, was to move a little bit closer to that sense of power that he had come to know. This thing was bigger than him. The rest was inescapable. He saw red. He saw one of them.

What was once toiling and loud, faded away. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way. The Vektan was the same way. The soft-playing standard melted into the noise of people and the fireworks outside.


End file.
